


PNT Act I: Ivory

by Edissero



Series: Project Nodus Tollens [1]
Category: Project Nodus Tollens
Genre: Centaurs, Character Death, Coming of Age, Digital Realm, Divine power, Fantasy, Finding Purpose, Gen, Good versus Evil, Gore, Graphic Description, Greek Mythology - Freeform, Infection, Machines, Mythology - Freeform, Nature Versus Nurture, Nodus Tollens, Pack Family, References to Depression, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Virus, powers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-03
Updated: 2018-10-25
Packaged: 2019-04-20 06:49:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 51,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14255313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Edissero/pseuds/Edissero
Summary: Awakening into a dark and infected world, Upsilon must fight alongside his fellow machines to defend the mortals who worship them as gods, all while learning what devotion and sacrifice truly mean.A coming-of-age story about a machine whose only dream is to protect and help those around him.





	1. Information

  _This story is still in the beta reading phases. Please feel free to ask questions and share feedback in the comments. Follow on Twitter or Join the Discord to follow updates related to chapters, music, and art._

**Story begins on "4. The God Module", under Chapter Index.**

 

**Creator:** Edissero

**Alph** **a Readers:** Gnocchi, MissFrisky

 

 

** Social Media **

**Discord:**  https://discord.gg/GFp6VFm

**Twitter:**  https://twitter.com/GlassMammal

 

 

**Other Media**

**Concept & Official Soundtrack (Soundcloud):** https://soundcloud.com/edissero/sets/pnt

**Concept Art:**  https://elli-leimone.deviantart.com/gallery/63666585/Project-Nodus-Tollens

**Nodus Tollens Fan Wiki:**  http://project-nt.wikia.com/wiki/Project_Nodus_Tollens


	2. Table of Contents

**Chapter  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Page . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Comic**

_Prologue | The God Module . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 4 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . N/A_

_1 | Humble Beginnings . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 5 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . N/A_

_2 | Peace & Love . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 6 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . N/A_

_3 | Sui Generis . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 7 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . N/A_

_4 | Gordian Knot . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 8 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . N/A_

_5| A Cold Place . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 9 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . N/A_

_6| Final Inspection . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 10 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . N/A_

_7| ????????????? . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 11 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . N/A_

_? | ????????????? . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 12 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . N/A_


	3. Dictionary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nodus Tollens uses many words inspired by other languages and mythologies to flesh out the various cultures that exist within the world. The primary language used throughout the world will be ancient and modernized Greek. 
> 
> This page will be updated as new words are added to the story.
> 
> Alphabetized A - Z according to translated language.

**Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows**

  * **??? -** ???



 

**L A T I N**

  * **Sui Generis** \- 'of its own kind'; unique



 

 

**G R E E K**

  * **Póso vlákas boreí na eísai?** _( Πόσο βλάκας μπορεί να είσαι? )_ \- How stupid are you?



 

  * **Ággelos** (  _Αγγελος_ ) - An Angel; Messenger
  * **Basileús** _( βασιλεύς )_ \- King
  * **Dáskalos** _( δάσκαλος )_ \- Teacher
  * **Fili** ( Φιλη ) - (female) Friend
  * **Fílos**  ( Φίλος ) - (male) Friend
  * **Fos Palírroia** _( Φως Παλίρροια )_ **-** Light Tides
  * **Neró** _(νερό)_ \- Water
  * **Och!** ( Ωχ! ) - An expression when something is unpleasant or unexpected.
  * **Oíkos** ( Oίκος ) - Family/Home (Depends on the context.)
  * **Paliosídero** _( Παλιοσίδερο ) -_ Scrap Iron
  * **Patéras** _( Πατέρας )_ \- Father
  * **Stratigós** _( στρατηγός )_ \- General
  * **Tou Thánatou** _( του θανάτου ) - "_ of Death"
  * **Vlákas** _( Βλάκας ) -_ Fool
  * **Xirós** _(ξηρός)_ \- Dry



 

 

 


	4. The God Module (A Prologue)

Thoughts ricocheted through his mind like haphazard sparks of electricity, as fleeting as they were meaningless. Fragmented memories reflected into each other to create dizzying mosaics, before shattering like shards of ice, melting on impact into a lukewarm, watery grave. What better way to wallow in self-pity while pangs of guilt inexplicably suffocated him?

This cocktail of emotions shaped his earliest memories upon awakening in the vast, pitch black hollow that he came to call the Null. In this world, he was just a tiny speck of life floating in an eternal darkness that whispered sorrows to him. He would inevitably come to create an entire civilization, but like a leech, horrid thoughts shadowed him in ways that made him question his purpose and validity.

In the beginning, everything had been very confusing, especially when he’d start to feel overwhelmed with these emotions again from time to time without knowing why.

But regardless, machines didn’t feel pain. So, there was that little perk.

He repeated this simple fact to any mortal who questioned his ability to stand up to the very creatures that threatened their homes over and over again. Pain, he would say, formed an ordeal for mortals to be concerned with, not a machine with a job to do. He was a Primary Module, known as the Shell, and to many, a god.

Unfortunately.

He had many names -  _ Patéras _ (“Father”),  _ Basileús _ (“King"),  _ Stratigós _ (“General”), etc - none he had given himself. Not to mention those who referred to him as  _ Tou Thánatou _ (“of death”) on their own accord. To those who would never see past his origins from the Null, he would forever be the reason for their bitter downfalls.

It didn’t matter that their definition of a god is what made him one, or that it was sullied by their own selfish delusions. He had the ability to give and take; to make and destroy. He could end every living entity’s suffering with a simple will to do so. Right?

Hardly.

He didn’t know if pure and perfect gods existed. But if they did, he most definitely was  _ not _ one. Far be it from him to claim himself a god.

He preferred Alpha.

He was a machine looking for answers. Answers, and the very real gods that withheld them.

  
  



	5. Ch.1 | Humble Beginnings

 

1,734. 1,735. 1,736. 1,73....

Upsilon sighed, boredom officially overcoming his ability to pursue even the most mediocre of distractions. Counting the number of times his satchel bounced against his hip had not ceased awareness of the mind numbingly long hike across the arid planes.

Heavy crates of packaged goods balanced delicately in his small arms, resting against his chest. Unsure of what was inside them, he contemplated asking, but he knew he’d only get a roundabout response that didn’t really answer anything. After all, puzzles were Phi’s favorite kind of response.

“Mind your step, Upsilon,” he said now, and Upsilon was careful to avoid the sand that shifted unpredictably on its own, lest he lose his balance and get drawn into the sand pits.

After asking for an escape from his monotonous schedule of chores, this had not been how he had foresaw his first trip away from _Oikos_ going.

The desert sand radiated heat as if attempting to cook them, even shrouded in the darkness of the Null like the rest of the world. It made Upsilon wish he’d been posted somewhere different, like Nessa or Proteus. Though he’d only seen pictures on screens, snow or water seemed much more pleasing to him than the seething, burgundy-hued sands of Chloris.

The little ball of light that rested atop Phi’s long, slender staff was repositioned to his other hand while he shifted himself more comfortably. Upsilon couldn’t understand why his metal body didn’t overheat under the myriad of clothing he wore. Phi claimed it protected him, but his internal fans must have been constantly in overdrive to keep him cool enough to function.

Upsilon readjusted the crates in his arms, again wondering what could be inside to make them as heavy as they were. All modules had enhanced strength and could lift twice their body weight, and that was without further enhancement. Even Upsilon, small as he may be, had no problem carrying the heavy load in his arms for miles. But that didn’t make it any less boring.

He momentarily considered asking Phi to take them instead, due to the fact the taller module carried nearly nothing on their long journey, but that would solve little. He instead settled for trying to start a conversation as a distraction. At this point, even one of Phi’s cryptic lessons would suffice.

“Phi?” Upsilon received a glance in question. “What am I carrying?”

“Crates,” he responded, half incredulously, at the question.

“Yes… but what’s _inside_ them?”

“Perhaps unanswered curiosity is the best kind.”

Okay, maybe silence was better. Upsilon resisted the urge to pull out his circuits in frustration and stayed quiet, potential retorts running through his mind as he simmered. Communication with Phi was not easy. It had been that way for three cycles, and Upsilon didn’t see it getting better. It didn’t help that he, himself, was reserved and unconfident, which often hindered his ability to answer Phi’s cryptic riddles. He didn’t think the taller module was a bad teacher, they just weren’t a good fit.

Upsilon couldn’t wait for the Observance Festival. His probationary period would end around that time, which meant he would be able to travel the biomes, and then to finally decide his new home. He refused to stay in Chloris. As much as he was grateful to Phi for the care he’d given him while he adjusted to life, Upsilon found nothing else worth staying for.

“We will be there soon.” Phi mentioned from ahead. A quick look in any direction surveyed nothing but sand dunes and rocky ruins littering the distance.

“... Where is ‘there’?” He asked quietly.

“You will see.”

Upsilon withheld another sigh. To distract himself, he returned to counting. This time, he only got to two-hundred before Phi interrupted him.

“We are here.” He said. Upsilon looked around him, confused at the same sight of sand and darkness. They were standing near a cluster of collapsed sandstone ruins. He blinked up at the taller, smiling module. “I would like you to watch carefully.”

Phi drove his staff into the ground for a moment while he scooped up a palmful of sand. In it, he drew something with his finger, the result a soft, golden glow that enveloped the small pile. He sprinkled it to the ground in a thin line, before retrieving his staff and motioning with it.

“Go on.”

“You… want me to cross the line?”

“Yes.”

“Is this a test?”

“Everything is a test. The answer you give is what determines the result.”

 _Well then… Anxiety don’t fail me now._ Upsilon’s thoughts dripped with sarcasm, his face unsure as he stared at the line like it might turn into a glowing snake and lunge at him.

“Or maybe I could go home and tend to the garden with Echo?”

“I’m afraid I need you to take steps here, Upsilon.”

“Yes, sir..” He was less than enthused to follow through. He knew Phi was powerful, and he didn’t know what a glowing line of sand would bring about. He supposed he didn’t have much choice, and stepped over the line.

The little engine in his chest immediately stalled as a feeling of change flowed from his feet to the top of his head. Blinded by the wall of light that greeted him, he became engulfed by an entirely new place.

The desert around him had suddenly shifted from a sandy wasteland to a lush, crescent cove littered with odd trees that didn’t have the familiar canopies he’d seen from images of Nessa and Eros forests. The trees surrounded a massive cluster of large wooden huts that laid scattered up and down the water’s edge. And as far as he could see, they were surrounded by grassy plains and mountains on one side and nothing but glistening water on the other. No more endless sands, just a gentle gradient along the edges of the crystal blue water.

Behind him, where he had stood only moments ago, was a large, moss-covered archway, much like a door. Upsilon half expected to see a portal back to the desert, but nothing lied beyond but the plains.

There were, however, creatures inhabiting this place, entities he’d never seen before, frollicking through the water shallows and dense trees; grazing, sleeping, racing in herds in the distance. Their bodies were thickly muscled with six legs, but where Upsilon felt a head should be, a torso similar to his own erected. Upsilon only had two arms, though they had four, and instead of metal bodies, they were covered in fur that thickened around their chests, bellies, and hooves, which pounded the earth powerfully. Horns varied wildly in shapes and sizes, sprouted among many of their heads, and most strikingly, the tips were glowing golden.

Upsilon had been forced to set the crates down while he gawked, or he would drop them like his jaw had. And as he took this all in, he was greeted with yet another mind boggling realization.

This land lacked darkness due to it being bathed in light from above. Far into the sky, though it seared his optics to look at, he noticed the light was moving beyond the mountains.

No, it was being carried. And those weren’t mountains.

A creature bigger than anything he’d ever seen strode painfully slow across the horizon on six stumpy legs, and a massive shell outcropping perched upon its back held the light source firmly in place. He could barely focus through the light enough to see that the creature’s scales and shell were emblazoned with intricate, glowing symbols. Its neck was long and its head large, with at least six eyes from what Upsilon could tell.

Phi had to place a heavy hand on his shoulder to get his attention.

“It is a good sign you can enter here, Upsilon, as very few can. It seems the Lender of Light accepts you.”

Upsilon finally pulled his gaze away from the giant creature in the distance, just long enough to let the words sink in.

He had been accepted by an Ancient. He witnessed one of the entities that, for him, had only existed in text before this moment.

“They’re real?” He asked in awe.

“No more or less than us.” He said cryptically, but Upsilon was too in awe to get upset trying to decode what he meant.

“If they’re real, why is there so little known about them?”

“Their purpose is to protect. Otherwise, they tend to isolate themselves.”

His first thought was how lonely such a life would be. But his next thought promptly directed at Phi in question.

“Will I be able to meet them anyway?”

“Maybe one day. You are still being judged, and will continue to be until you meet the Judger of Fates.”

“The Eros Ancient? I’ll get to meet them, too?”

“If you prove yourself, there is the possibility you’ll meet them all.”

Upsilon returned his gaze once again to the Lender of Light. They were so far away, but their footsteps still shook the earth ever so slightly under their feet. As if knowing Upsilon watched from afar, they paused, lifting their head and parting their toothy maw to let out a long, breathy bellow.

“It’s nice to meet you, too.” Upsilon muttered under his breath, uncaring that the chance the beast tried to speak to him proved slim.

His initial feelings of Chloris had been completely thrown aside in awe. He felt a new love for this place blossoming, and took a moment to appreciate how much better this was than seeing pictures on a screen of places he’d never been.

“Let us go, Upsilon. You have someone to meet.”

“Should I get the crates?”

“You’ll return for them when necessary. Come.” Phi beckoned with his staff and Upsilon followed in suit.

The cove they were headed towards bustled with young creatures frollicking and splashing in the water, while bigger ones sprawled out and slept or grazed in the warmth of the light’s rays. Otherwise, every entity busied themselves with something, fixing damaged huts or collecting edibles from the lush vegetation. With four arms, and six legs, Upsilon theorized that these entities were fantastic builders and runners, although the latter was confirmed by the stampeding herd in the distance.

Many of the huts were plain, but most of them had some kind of decorative foliage covering it, such as leafy garland along the doorways and windows. There were no doors, and Upsilon assumed the huts were used more for shade from the light than actual housing.

He followed Phi to a hut that proposed a strikingly different view, in that there were baskets piled on the sides filled with various herbs and plants, drying out in the light. What’s more, a giant, golden banner covered the doorway, black stitching complimenting the edges and a big symbol in the center that Upsilon didn’t recognize.

Phi knocked gently against the wooden frame with his staff, and the banner was briskly swept aside by a perturbed looking entity, who immediately began to beam in pleasant surprise.

“Ah, my lovely Executor. I should have known only you would be polite enough to knock at my door, friend. These barbarians have no respect for privacy.” Two hands were busy holding trinkets of some kind, but the other two waved above his head to emphasize his distaste for the bad habits of his species. “You, however, will forever be welcome here.” He beckoned for them to enter. “Come, come, to what do I owe this pleasure and… who is this?”

He suddenly stopped, noticing Upsilon for the first time, and the two of them observed each other in great interest. The vast difference between this one and the rest of his kind couldn’t be more apparent.

Instead of prancing around completely bare, as was the normal for most entities, he’d chosen to clothe himself like a module. A burgundy tunic covered his torso, where a delicately molded pendant rested. An amber inlay revealed the same symbol in black that he’d seen on the banner out front. A large, yet thin, golden tapestry hung across his back like a blanket. A big leather belt sat comfortably around what would have been his waist had he been a biped, and on either hip hung a large satchel. On his head sat a laurel, the leaves fashioned from gold, and thin, curly horns with glowing tips coiled around either side of his head next to pointy, hyperactive ears. Even his fur, Upsilon noticed, was a reddish brown with a golden sheen where the light from the window touched.

“This is Upsilon.” Phi finally said, to break the silence. Upsilon hadn’t even realized he’d been staring. He realized he’d been given the opportunity to introduce himself and missed it. He chastised himself silently.

“I’m the newest module...” Upsilon spoke quietly, trying to save face and resisting the urge to fold in on himself. “I am… posted under Phi’s care. That is, until the end of my probationary twenty cycles.” He probably shouldn’t have added that last part, in fear of hurting Phi’s feelings, but the taller module didn’t seem offended. He instead had kept his eyes on the other entity and nodded once Upsilon finished.

“He is an exemplary student, Calais.”

“And trusted by the Lender of Light, I see.”

“Yes. Perfect for your instruction.”

“My instruction?” Calais seemed surprised by the statement. “Who better to teach the metal nymph than an Executor?”

“I’m afraid I have some business to attend to in another biome, for an inordinate number of cycles. Upsilon is still restricted, due to his probation, and must yet be confirmed capable before coming on such ventures.”

Two of the creature’s hands suddenly returned to tinkering with the things they held, while another caressed his fuzzy chin in ponderment.

“I am deeply honored by this opportunity, do not misunderstand. I only wonder what it is I can teach him, as I am only mildly familiar with the ways of machines, and your kind, no less.”

“That is what we are counting on. I trust your teachings, Calais. You are the brightest of your realm, afterall. And with your healing touch, I know he is safe in your hands.”

“My knowledge of healing is limited to mortals of the organic degree. I can not ensure his safety.”

“I have brought supplies for his care, as well as goods I know you will value. Two crates filled with the finest materials, including a favor already owed. If this endeavor serves to be a bigger intrusion than intended, you will be compensated with more, rest assured.”

Calais continued to contemplate, turning himself in the wide space of his home to set his trinkets on a table. Like the others, the hut was a spacious, dirt-packed floorplan, no doubt to allow for the entity’s large size and hooves. Along the walls were tables and shelves filled with various parchments and jars, more herbs and plants flourishing in baskets, and on the ground in the corner, a thick bed of leaves fit for resting himself.

They waited patiently, and Upsilon wondered what it was that Phi needed to go do without him. He knew very little about the other module, despite having lived with him for three cycles already. However, more forward in Upsilon’s mind was the thought of spending cycles here learning about new creatures and culture. Everything he’d been exposed to, besides the desert, had been limited to Phi’s tiny residence. The _Oikos_ consisted of the two of them, and Phi’s Script, Echo, who had admittedly become a friend to Upsilon. He wondered if she would go with Phi to another biome or be lonely in their absence.

“Compensation is not necessary, my friend.” Calais finally returned his attention to the two, holding a small pouch in his now free hands. He held it up in the light and then took confident steps toward Phi to hand it over. “The nymph will be looked after and treated as one of our own. I’ll see to it personally that he is kept busy learning all we have to offer. I’ll have him study with Pallas.” He added as an afterthought, a finger wagging in the air and head nodding. “Yes, yes, this will be interesting.”

He trotted over to Upsilon and kneeled down on his two sets of front legs, so he could get a better look at him. Upsilon felt too embarrassed to keep his eyes on Calais, so they wandered to the side nervously, hands folded behind his back and head low.

“He’s a tense one.” Calais laughed warmly, and Upsilon made a point to noticeably ease a little. Was he being tense? Calais seemed nice enough. Upsilon just needed to pull himself together.

“I’m always ready for new experiences.” He said to Calais, who lifted his chin and eyed him with perusal. “I’m also obedient. I have no trouble following orders. I do.. however, ask a lot of questions.”

“As I can attest to.” Phi added, causing Calais to bellow in hefty laughter as he returned to standing.

“What beautiful habits for a willing student to have. I am looking forward to your growth.”

“Then I’ll leave you to it.” Phi said, bowing ever so slightly with his staff. “I thank you for your great service, Calais.”

“It is I who should be grateful.” Calais bowed in return, though his was deeper and full of more gratitude. “I wish you safe travels and a well mind, my friend.”

 _“Ta léme_.” Phi said, Calais returning the sentiment in kind. The taller module gave Upsilon a smile and nod before disappearing through the doorway. In his absence, Upsilon felt more awkward than ever. He finally glanced at Calais, who watched him curiously.

“Young nymph, tell me… have you ever seen a book?”

“A book?” Upsilon let the word form in his mouth and he shook his head lightly. “I don’t think so… May I ask what it does?”

“I rather encourage you to question everything. Come, I’ll show you the wonders of parchment that screens will never capture.” He beckoned with two of his hands and sauntered out of the hut, Upsilon following beside him. Calais’ species was massive compared to himself. Upsilon’s head didn’t even reach the top of his long back, and the entity’s shadow completely engulfed him.

They returned to the crates Upsilon had dragged all this way, and Calais didn’t ask him to carry them like he had expected. He instead grabbed all three and had absolutely no trouble carrying them, as presumed. Upsilon couldn’t imagine the muscles under all the fur and clothing. They were probably rock hard and capable of lifting boulders.

Calais led him over to an area where the patches of grass were softer and trees served more shade. The sound of the water and others laughing in the distance soothed Upsilon, and he realized he was feeling less nervous just being here.

The crates were set down and Calais cracked open the top of one with ease, setting the lid aside. Inside were leather-bound bricks, packed neatly, and Upsilon realized that’s why the crates had been so heavy.

Each hand of Calais grabbed one from the wooden crate to inspect it quickly, before setting it aside and going for another. After ten or so, he seemed satisfied with his choices. His many legs folded under himself and he motioned for Upsilon to join him, which he did, sitting cross-legged beside his new teacher under the tree’s shade.

“This, young nymph, is a book. It is filled with leaflets of parchment that serve much the same purpose as the screens you read from. Here,” Calais offered a book to Upsilon, who took it with surprise at how light it was. “The title here, on the front, tells you what this specific book is for or about.”

“ _The Herbalist’s Cook Book_?”

“It contains healing remedies for organic mortals that are supplied by the earth around us. And this one,” He said, grabbing another book from the pile and trading him, “Is about known species of entity residing in the Nemesis biome. There are countless books on subjects such as these.”

“ _Friend or Foe: What You Need To Know_.” Upsilon read aloud, smiling at the cheesy title. He flippantly thumbed the pages, and then turned his attention to Calais again. “So what is the point of having so many of these books when I could have access to the same information on one tablet?”

“It is mostly a matter of individual desire. However, you must keep in mind that most mortals are not capable of seeing and using the screens you use. Information comes in many forms, such as leather-bound pages or scrolls or woven tapestry. Even spoken language, versus written.”

Upsilon dropped his eyes to the book in his lap, currently resting open to pages on a species of dark, insectoid entities that live on the earth’s underside of Nemesis, outside of actual biome limits. A quick glance told Upsilon they fed off the ichor of stranded wanderers and sometimes others of their own kind. They were called Hollows, in the simple tongue.

However, even as he glanced through this, unrelated thoughts were connecting in the back of his mind. He furrowed his brow.

“You want me to better understand others through similar experiences, right?”

“How observant. You are correct.” Calais seemed pleased.

Upsilon considered asking another question, but would asking too many make it seem like he didn’t trust Calais’ ability to teach him? That would be disrespectful.

“Please, young nymph, share your thoughts. Don’t be afraid.”

“Well… I am more than willing to follow your instruction. I guess I just don’t know where I should start. Though, I am greatly interested in learning more of this place and those like you.”

“A reasonable feeling. For your comfort, know that you are more than welcome to any literature in my home, including the books in these crates. I do stress that if you wish to put anything you read into practice, or travel away from our village, I’d like to watch over you. So come find me.”

“I’ll stay aware of your responsibility of me.” Upsilon said, understanding that if anything happened to him, Calais would probably be in a lot of trouble with some very powerful entities. Nobody wanted modules on their bad side, and Calais seemed very nice.

“I appreciate your consideration.” Calais said, reaching into one of the bags on his hip. He pulled out a book that hadn’t come from the crates, handing it over. “If you truly wish to learn more about my kind, this is filled with many of the details I have observed in my long life. It’s a good start. And if you’re still interested once your through, there are more in my home. Top shelf, far left.”

Upsilon set down the book on Nemesis species and took the one Calais handed over. It was bound in dark red leather, _Centaurs: The Wanderers of Bilateral Plains_ etched in golden lettering.

“So, you’re a Centaur?”

“That is right. There are different types of Centaur, as you will read. We are only one breed.” Calais began to stand, stomping his hooves into the grass to unruffle his fur. He brushed himself off and then retrieved the other two unopened crates. “I bid you well reading. Come find me when you tire, young nymph. I will give you a change of scenery.”

“Thank you, _Dáskalos_.” Upsilon said, deciding it would be most respectful to call him ‘teacher’ in the old tongue. Calais smiled warmly, a thought obviously crossing his mind, though he didn’t share. Upsilon watched him trot off, probably to his hut.

He looked down at the newest book he’d been given, and then repositioned himself with his back against the tree before he opened to the first page and began reading.

Obviously written by Calais, he could only hear the centaur’s voice as he read. There were many sketches, showing the anatomy of the species and also giving examples of various stages of life and common characteristics. Many pages in the beginning only confirmed some of Upsilon’s own theories, which was reassuring.

He came to read that their home existed in the exact same space as Chloris desert, it simply acted as another plane of existence, and they were referred to as ‘ _Neró_ ’ and ‘ _Xirós_ ’ by the centaurs, meaning ‘water’ and ‘dry’ respectively. Both realms affected the other in various ways, such as the sand dunes being shifted by the Lender of Light’s presence, even though he wasn’t physically in the dry realm.

He learned that centaurs had once been capable of shifting between planes like the ancients could, however the skill had died out long ago in lesser entities. Few are still successful in doing so, and one of the few, apparently, was Calais. Centaurs lived almost five times longer than the average mortal, which was shocking in itself, but then he read that at birth, their bodies were imbued with golden ichor by the Lender of Light, which explained the long life span, and caused markings to appear along their bodies during the Ancient’s absence. Upsilon had thought only modules and other machines relied on golden ichor energy sources.

He also found sections telling of different centaur breeds. Chloris centaurs were fairly peaceful and had many arms and legs, whereas their familiars in Nemesis had great big, beautiful wings and a knack for fighting. Chloris centaurs were builders and healers, gatherers imbued with light. Nemesis centaurs were warriors and welders, protectors imbued with fire. The wild differences in their lifestyles led to a separation of cultures, but centurian pride was an anchor between them.

Something called a Centaurian Rite gave centaur’s their respective Ancient’s essence upon birth, but that section proved to be confusing for Upsilon due to the lack of information.

All centaurs could lift at least twice their own weight, run or fly at incredible speeds, and tended to feel more at peace within a herd. They were loyal, but tended to avoid being civilized; another thing that made Calais different from the others, Upsilon noted. He wore clothes and knew how to read and write, which usually acted as a sign of self-awareness and dignity. Apparently that was a common problem among their species, along with privacy, according to him.

He finished rather quickly, thanks to the perks of being a machine. He felt a sense of relief once he was done, like a weight lifting off his shoulders allowing him to refocus on his surroundings. He felt very calm, and the gentle push and pull of the water down by the beach continuously lulled him into a state of contentment.

And then he reached over, dragging the crate closer, to retrieve the first book he touched.

 _On Ichor_ , the title read, and although Upsilon thought he knew everything there was to know about Ichor, he read it anyway.

There wasn’t really any new information. It spoke of the four different types of ichor, and how they were the energy and life source of various entities, the limitations and uses, and common findings. Golden, or Technical, ichor was the second most abundant energy source in the world, proving to be very valuable as a light source in darker places. Machines like Upsilon couldn’t function properly on any grade lower than Technical ichor, but this grade also benefited mortals by being used in medicines. Mortals had a tendency to exist on Crimson Ichor, which became blackened when it rotted, also known as Hollow Ichor. The highest grade ichor, called Sterling, was silver, or white in its purest of forms. Its effectiveness in medicine proved far greater than that of Technical ichor, but it was also a rarity among the world, and so, against world law to freely harvest.

Upsilon hadn’t been aware of that last part, but it made sense. He set aside the finished book and started on another. He did this until the crate had only one remaining book, which meant he’d read through at least a dozen of them in a little over half a cycle. He removed the unread book, filling the crate with all the others he’d finished, and placed the last one in his own satchel for later. He carried the crate back to Calais’ hut, noting that everything seemed darker than before.

Upon arrival, he had thought it strange to be in a land filled with so much light, but now he felt odd when a quick glance around ensured him that his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him, things were actually getting darker. Smaller sources of light were beginning to appear, as insects and also sacks of golden ichor hanging from branches and posts. Above, the light was definitely taking on the darker tones of the Null behind it. Upsilon didn’t see the Lender of Light on the horizon of grassy plains either.

He kept his eyes low as he passed many unfamiliar faces, only mildly cautious of his presence, and finally returned to Calais. But when he shimmied under the big banner in the doorway, he was taken aback by what he saw.

Calais stood in the center of the floor, a scroll in his two left hands hiding his face and the same metal trinket being fiddled with in the right two. He looked the same, and even seemed fine, however his skin and fur were suddenly alight with cryptic symbols and linework. Upsilon remembered seeing similar glowing patterns on the Lender of Light’s shell.

Was this what being ‘imbued with light’ meant?

“ _Dáskalos?_ ” He wondered curiously, hoping dearly that he wasn’t interrupting something important. But Calais greeted him with that same warm smile and set aside his things.

“There you are, young nymph. The Lender of Light is sleeping soon, and things will be getting dark.”

“Ancients sleep?” Upsilon’s thoughts had escaped him, earning a laugh from Calais.

“If you were as old and as powerful as the earth, would you not, too, wish to escape it for a while?”

“That’s fair.” Upsilon admitted, stowing the crate away under a desk with the others he’d seen. Then brought up the very thing that should have been obvious. “So… the glowing marks protect you?” Calais seemed confused, and then promptly embarrassed, his back hooves bouncing a little in thought.

“Ah, yes, they do. When the Lender of Light sleeps, their mark is revealed on us. So long as we have their essence within us, we can not be harmed while they sleep. It is a seal of protection.”

“Essence… you mean golden ichor, right?” He asked hesitantly.

“Partly, yes.”

“Does that mean I’m going to start glowing?” Another chuckle, and Upsilon found he liked his voice.

“No, young nymph. These marks are from the Centaurian Rite every Centaur undergoes after birth. You, unfortunately, are not a Centaur.”

“Having six legs seems cool, but... I’m okay with two.” He meant it seriously, but was pleased by yet another hearty laugh from Calais, and Upsilon found himself smiling, too. He could see himself growing close to his new teacher. He seemed so carefree and kind, and his voice sounded like gentle drums rolling. It was calming, and different from anything Upsilon had experienced yet.

It turns out that every centaur in the village had the same glowing marks on their bodies, though they all differed ever so slightly from one another. They all retreated from the beach now, and crowded around the edge of the grass as an honor to the Ancient before dark.

Calais had brought him outside to watch the sleepy Ancient slowly push himself off the coast and into the water. As the Lender of Light sunk under the surface, the markings on their shell began to create a glow around them. And the massive sphere of light perched securely among its back was swallowed ever so slowly, until the darkness of the Null overtook the village in its absence. The water now contrasted that darkness by glowing as far as the eye could see. And the only thing remaining of the Ancient when he stopped moving was the very tip of his shell protruding from the water like a tiny, pointed island on the horizon.

“When will they wake?” Upsilon asked.

“When they are ready.” Calais responded lightly.

The water level, Upsilon noticed, had risen considerably. There was no longer a sandy gradient separating the water and grass, and where the two met, the vegetation grew thicker and held more color.

Behind him, cheerful hollering echoed around the village.

“The herd has returned.” Calais offered, a hand emphasizing the congested group of centaurs coming in off the grassy plains. Some of the centaurs carried large logs tied to their sturdy bodies, but the majority of them had a set of baskets straddling their backs, filled with resources like metals, stones, and edibles. Some had sacks made from the wide leaves of local trees hanging from their packs as well, and the golden glow suggested ichor inside.

It occured to Upsilon that it wouldn’t be surprising for a large well of ichor to exist in these lands, considering that was the Lender of Light’s source of power.

“They brought so many materials.”

“Yes. During the light periods, the herd is made of volunteers who go out and search for much needed resources. They don’t return until their backs are full, or the dark falls. It can be a long and tiring experience for first-timers.”

Upsilon immediately wanted to go with the herd next time the light rose. But he knew at this point, he’d be more of a hindrance. So he settled for the next best thing.

“When the light rises, would it be too much to ask for that change of scenery you mentioned?”

“Bored of the village already?” Calais teased, and Upsilon immediately felt ashamed.

“Oh, that’s not what I meant… I really like your home, Calais. I’m just… really excited to see more of it.”

“Relax, young nymph.” The large centaur trotted a few steps closer and rested a hand on Upsilon’s back. “Your eagerness is easily noticeable. I know you mean no harm. Next light, we will travel the plains and ruins. And maybe work on your self-confidence while we’re at it.”

“Yes, _Dáskalos_.” Bashful, Upsilon let his eyes drift away.

“Ah, my other student arrives. How shocked Pallas will be to know he has a peer.”

At this, Upsilon grew more nervous and vigilant. A look around the area told him the smallest of the herd trotting towards them would be Pallas. He also wore a tunic over his chest, though his had been dyed a royal blue. On his back, two rows of baskets were filled with familiar herbs and plants Upsilon recalled seeing around his teacher’s home. Instead of the rustic golden hue of Calais’ fur, Pallas had a darkened mixture of grey and blue. As he grew closer, there lied a silver sheen where the water’s glow and ancient fur patterns rested, and even the centaur’s eyes were a brilliant blue, whereas Calais had golden irises, he noted promptly. Pallas also wore a blanket on his back, though it was smaller, meant to ease the friction between the baskets and his skin.

He seemed to be scrutinizing Upsilon in a more serious manner than Calais had when meeting Upsilon, and as he drew to a stop before them, he first spoke to the bigger centaur.

“ _Dáskalos,_ I return with herbs, ichor.” The accent common with speakers of the old tongue was prevalent in his slow words. He was obviously new to speaking the simple tongue. And on top of that, Upsilon realized he’d called Calais ‘teacher’ just as he had. He wondered if that is what had caused the strange look on the centaur’s face when he’d been called that by someone new.

“Welcome home, Pallas. Did you remember the Gordian Roots?”

“Aye, half of basket worth, and other half _Fos Palírroia_.”

“You did well, then. Before you unmount and return to rest, I’d like you to meet someone. This, is Upsilon, a new student.” He spoke with his hands. Upsilon thought he’d be better off jumping in the water to escape the look Pallas was giving him. The other centaur wasn’t nearly as big as Calais, however Upsilon still didn’t match him in height or weight. And in that moment, Pallas seemed ready to vaporize him with his eyes alone.

“Small.” His only response. What an accurate adjective. Upsilon couldn’t find it in himself to speak.

“I’ve taken on teaching him for now, until he can return home. We’re not sure when that will be, but I want you to work together from now on.”

“ _Och_ ! ” Pallas’ eyes bugged in his exclamation of surprise. “What good would that have? He is machine, from _Xirós_. We have in common nothing!”

A moment of silence passed between the three of them, Upsilon reading the atmosphere and feeling it more appropriate to stay quiet. He noticed Pallas’ accent grew thicker when he was agitated. Though Calais didn’t seem upset, he didn’t seem very happy, either. His tone made that clear.

“Can you be so sure? You’ve spoken nary a single word to him, and only just met. Come to me in three or four cycles when you can hardly stand each other, and I’ll give your opinion more weight, Pallas. I thought our many lessons together would have taught you better by now.”

 _Ouch_ , Upsilon thought, glancing from one centaur to the other. Pallas seemed to be reviewing his demeanor and became less aggressive with his words.

“Apologies, _Dáskalos_. I think I am tired from the long trip.”

“Even the gods succumb to emotions and fatigue, Pallas. You’re easily forgiven.” The bigger centaur’s voice had an understanding kindness in it. “Now go, rest, and when you are ready, we will begin your lessons. With both of you. And young nymph,” He turned to Upsilon, who lifted his head at attention. “I’ve made a place for you to rest in my home if you desire, or you may stay within the village limits and explore. For now, I am to rest myself, before your lessons. I bid you both well.”

Calais trotted off after a tiny, polite bow, and Upsilon’s anxiety did that thing again. Pallas stared daggers at him when he met his gaze. What was with centaurs and prolonged eye contact?

“What end does this achieve? In your realm, you have teachers, yes?” Upsilon didn’t answer right away, carefully measuring the way he spoke with bitter tones. He felt he should be careful when answering, but he didn’t have time to open his mouth before Pallas cut him off, as if intentionally trying to insult him.

“You can even understand me? You are mute? _Póso vlákas boreí na eísai?_ ”

His remark of being mute was rude, and hit a particular sore spot. And though he didn’t entirely understand the centaur’s fluent speaking of the old tongue, he recognized the word for ‘stupid’. Upsilon resisted the feeling of aggravation sneaking up on him. Nothing good would come of arguing.

“My former _Dáskalos_ has objectives to complete in places I can not go. I think he saw this as a safe place to leave me until he returns.”

“So he orphans you with us.” Pallas sneered a little, crossing all four arms over his chest. “ _Dáskalos_ has student. You go, find another.”

“On the contrary, I thought we might learn from each other.” He tried to be civilized, he rather preferred it to bickering like infants. But Pallas seemed too caught up in his emotions to be receptive to positivity.

“ _Vlákas_ . We are different like light and dark, young _nymph._ ” He used the name Calais called him, another attempt at an insult, no doubt trying to sound above him. He didn’t understand the word in old tongue. “There is little we will share but pain.”

Upsilon wasn’t sure how to respond. He felt some deeper underlying problem in Pallas, and didn’t really understand what he meant. The realm Upsilon called home was always dark, and yes, also dangerous. But why did that suggest he would hurt Pallas in some way? Or vice versa? The threats from his home did not make him one. Just as the peace in Pallas’ home did not make him peaceful. But Upsilon didn’t think saying this would satisfy the centaur, so instead, he chose neutrality.

“Maybe we can grow together. Afterall, I’m only here to learn.”

“Then learn your kind is not wanted here.”

 _Oh._ It was about him being machine. Upsilon tried not to feel hurt as Pallas continued slowly, carefully thinking through his words before seething them.

“ _Paliosídero_ was forced from this land long ago, and for good reason. I regret not my mistrust. Only your being. It brings nothing but bad omens,” his upper lip quivered in disgust, and he promptly turned and trotted away heatedly, leaving Upsilon to wonder what could possibly have happened to make Pallas so bitter. What did _‘ Paliosídero_ _’_ mean? And what exactly had modules done to cause him pain? Maybe this would be harder than he thought.

He suddenly missed Echo, and wondered how she was doing back in the desert. She had been the only one to truly understand and accept him, and now, more than ever, he felt the need to talk with her, sort his thoughts. He hoped she wasn’t too lonely.

Besides the obvious, something Pallas had said now bugged him. Phi had never really cared for him as a student or friend, that he knew. They’d never been especially close, but Upsilon had always claimed it was due to the short time they’d spent together, not the fact that Phi disliked his presence. Now he wondered if maybe Phi even had something to do in another biome. Did he drop him off here until the end of his probation so he didn’t have to deal with him?

Maybe he _was_ a ‘bad omen’, as Pallas had said. He had no purpose, could hardly carry his own weight back home, and felt unwanted by most of the entities he came in contact with. It wasn’t a good sign that he would become much, and his grand ambitions for the future were growing much darker now.

After starting to think that this place would be the key to finding his purpose, he suddenly felt those hopes shatter under the realization that maybe some things didn’t really change no matter where you were. Maybe nothing changed because it was him who was the problem.

He felt very lost, not just in his thoughts, but in general. What was he going to do if he failed? What would become of him? Would he be erased?

He retreated to a far corner of the water’s glowing edge, away from the rest of the village, and pulled his knees to his chest. Besides the anxiety whittling away at the back of his mind, he felt something else underneath. He couldn’t put his finger on it.

He tried to distract himself by remembering the things he’d learned in his very short life so far. He thought about the world, and the unfairness of it, how entities on the outside of this place were suffering when he was here, perfectly safe. His mind wandered to when Calais had told him how some books were just stories of entities who may never have existed, but went through trials and tribulations just as dire as those in reality. He wondered if there were books about someone like him.

Speaking of books.

Of the ones he’d repackaged in the crate, one remained with him. He retrieved it from his satchel now, and fingered the finely etched print.

 _The Story of Nobody_ , it read.

Upsilon found the first page and lost himself for a while.


	6. Ch. 2 | Peace and Love

During the dark period, while the Ancient slept, Upsilon spent much of his free time reading, finding he enjoyed it quite thoroughly. When he wasn’t reading books about geography or biology, he found himself exploring the rather large village of _Neró_ , managing to make friends with some of the younger foals. A language barrier kept them from fully communicating, but through motions and a little patience, their childish curiosity and excitement about each other led to some fun anyway. Upsilon found himself racing the six-legged beasts and although he never won the races, he was proud that he could keep up with them.

They taught him the word for ‘friend’ in the old tongue, and they used it frequently when referring to him, instead of his name. They even let him study their glowing fur patterns, giggling as Upsilon poked and prodded in wonder. Upsilon felt relieved, and a little moved that they accepted him so easily. The older centaurs mostly ignored him and, besides a warm-hearted Calais, Upsilon had felt a bit out of place and unwanted.

If there was indeed ill will between centaurs and machines like Pallas had suggested, then the younger centaurs were as clueless as Upsilon. He fit right in, matching their challenges of speed and strength, or embracing their adventures to the outskirts of the village and around the water. They were amazed and, maybe a little confused, that he could hold his breath forever under the water. He didn’t know the right words in their language to tell them he didn’t need to breathe, or that his body was built to be waterproof, but they seemed to think it pretty neat either way.

When Calais did request his presence, it usually resulted in a teaching exercise with Pallas and himself. Those were hardly bearable, as it required Upsilon to ignore the subtle glares and quiet mutterings of Pallas. He didn’t know what the centaur was saying in the old tongue, much less why he hated him so, but he could sense they were meant to insult him.

The lessons themselves were somewhat boring and redundant. For Upsilon, it was as simple as logging the recipes he learned and then going through the motions of remaking them with the correct herbs and such. He almost always finished before Pallas, and the hot-headed centaur was noticeably frustrated when he found himself falling behind.

At one point, Calais sent them on an errand to collect Wet Tongues, which were a type of mollusk that thrived in the shallows of the lake. Pallas may have had more hands to catch them with, but Upsilon had a much easier time collecting them, due to the fact that he could submerge himself in the shallows and just gently scoop them up as they inched past him. It was pretty relaxing, even with Pallas in the background. They were so focused on collecting the little creatures, they forgot to be mad at each other.

The first Wet Tongue Upsilon had ever seen made him understand why they got their name. Their shells were long and fairly flat, but where the end rounded, an opening revealed a long and squishy tongue-like appendage that kept them latched onto whatever surface they traversed. They were strange, awkward little things.

The slime Wet Tongues produced turned out to be perfect for soothing burns and itchy skin, and their shells were incredibly varied in use, whole or crushed into powder. And yes, they were sticky, as he came to find out.

Upsilon realized a downside to wading in water full of slimy critters was that he came out of it with a few stragglers clinging to his body, many of which he couldn’t reach. He found grass and leaves sticking to his metal, wherever the slime had managed to get on him, which was basically everywhere. The sight of him made Calais laugh though, so that was a plus. Upsilon smiled sheepishly at the big centaur plucking one off his shoulder.

After washing himself off in the deeper parts of the lake, Upsilon stepped out feeling refreshed in the cool air. The water was much warmer in comparison, due to the Lender of Light sleeping deep below. The energy source that caused the water to glow also heated it considerably. It led Upsilon to wonder if it would continue to get hotter if the Ancient continued to sleep. Would it get to the point where it boiled? Was that even possible? As curious as he was on the effects Ancients had on their environments, some questions would have to wait.

After five long cycles, the slumbering Ancient pulled itself from the lake with a loud, drawn-out groan that caused the earth to rumble. Water poured from crevices in its great shell like massive waterfalls, and rippling waves bounced against the edges of the lake as it receded with the absence of the giant beast, causing the sandy beach to return once more.

Upsilon, alone at the edge of the sand, watched the Ancient rise. It was mesmerizing to witness the world slowly be filled with light, fading from the abysmal darkness of the Null to the golden hue of the Ancient, and then finally a lighter blue that reflected the water’s surface.

A bought of laughter far behind caught his attention and he turned to see the familiar faces of the younger foals he’d come to befriend. Before he could shout to them in greeting, he realized Pallas was in the middle of them.

The larger centaur uttered something at them in the old tongue, annoyed and carrying a bundle of baskets no doubt from Calais’ hut. The foals bounced around him, and it dawned on Upsilon that they were not laughing with him, but at him. One of them said something that caused all the others to barrel in laughter, and Pallas’ dropped the baskets to threaten them. The foals fled in a hurry, giggles fleeting. Pallas kneeled to collect his mess in silence, but Upsilon could see something behind his eyes. Something sad.

Upsilon probably should have gone over and helped. But he didn’t. It would have been a good opportunity to find out why there was so much hate from someone who didn’t even know him, but just the thought of confronting Pallas made him anxious. So, he watched until Pallas suddenly met his gaze, glaring.

Upsilon looked away, turning back to the water and crossing his arms.

 

 

In _The Story of Nobody_ , Upsilon had read about a strange shape shifting creature made from the essence of Hollow Crystals. With no single, stable form, it roamed the world as an aura of black mist. When it took the shape of a creature, it would harden into a body conformed of hollow crystals as though it had been carved.

The book was more a collection of sightings and theories, organized by the author in story fashion, and it was stressed that the stories could neither be confirmed nor denied. _Nobody_ tended to keep its distance from the world, was seemingly intelligent, and only appeared before terrible things happened. Once entities caught on, _Nobody_ became a bad omen. The author claimed that _Nobody_ was never the cause of these events and, if anything, it had been trying to prevent them. But despite _Nobody’s_ attempt at selflessness, the entity proved to be absolutely hated throughout the world.

The author claimed it was because entities feared _Nobody_ due to its appearance, and what their arrival symbolized. Death. Inconsistency. The unknown. No matter how much good they did, the hate grew towards them and became infectious, claiming _Nobody_ was the cause for all the disasters _,_ until the ebony entity stopped appearing all together.

The terrible things kept happening, despite this.

Eventually, _Nobody_ became nothing but memories for a rare few, and the author went on to say something about mortals often being too narrow minded, so much so that they tend to ignore reality due to their own fears and insecurities.

Upsilon had wondered how old the book was even before opening it, considering its leather bound cover had been noticeably replaced at least a couple of times. But the lettering on the front and throughout its pages had also been a little faded and missing in places. He couldn’t even read the author’s name.

Though Upsilon wished the book had been more complete, he made a note to look for more information on _Nobody_ when he was able. Until then, he mulled over the author’s last few pages about fear.

Upsilon wondered what fear Pallas harbored to hate him so, if that was even the case. Could he be as scared of failing his superiors as much as Upsilon? Did he fear being outcasted? Upsilon supposed everyone did, to an extent. He considered bringing this up to Calais after all, since he’d obviously known Pallas for much longer. He was about to visit anyway, since Calais had told Upsilon to arrive at first light. Maybe he could ask then.

He had kept the tense atmosphere between him and the younger centaur unspoken, because he didn’t want to give Pallas more of an excuse to hate him. But maybe Calais could shine a light on his confusion.

Upsilon gave the Lender of Light one more glance as it trudged across the horizon, still awed by the remarkable image of the beast. Then he bounded off to Calais’ hut.

He slipped under the banner in silence, as he heard Calais speaking to someone loudly and with hearty laughter. Unfortunately, it was Pallas, whose smile dipped a little at the sight of the other. Calais greeted him cheerfully.

“Ah, young nymph, there you are. I think it’s time we all take a venture away from the village.”

“Us three?” Pallas asked, weary of the answer. “Where?”

“I believe it’s time we show our young nymph the fields, don’t you, Pallas?” Calais was answered with silence, but the question had been rhetorical, it seemed, as he continued regardless. “I can smell the _Fos Palírroia_ blooming from here. A perfect opportunity to test some of the things you’ve learned so far, yes?”

Upsilon ignored Pallas’ glare and gave Calais a small smile.

“That sounds fun.” Upsilon said, smile dipping as Calais turned to pack some things in his satchel. Was there an expression for sensing the heat of another’s gaze? What a strange feeling.

Upsilon tried to distract himself by asking Calais to explain ‘smell’, earning a condescending snort from Pallas. After a brief, somewhat difficult explanation, Calais then described _Fos Palírroia_.

“It grows abundantly in this land, but very sparsely in the rest of the world.” He retrieved a book from one his many shelves and thumbed through the pages until he found the one he seeked. He handed the book over to Upsilon, who commited the pages to memory. “It is an essential ingredient in some of the more effective pain medicines, and cures many minor illnesses.”

And now, as Upsilon lowered the book and compared Calais’ roughly drawn flowers to the ones in front of him, he found he was glad they were so identifiable. If they grew as rarely in the rest of the world as Calais said, then it would be important for entities to easily find them.

The flowers were tiny, commonly growing in bushels of twenty with white petals and long stems. _Fos Palírroia_ translated to ‘Light Tides’, named due to their usual bloom occurring immediately after the Ancient returned to land after a slumber. When the light goes away, they wilt and become soil that nurtures future buds, and other plants that may be nearby.

Calais’ book also mentioned how _Fos Palírroia_ could be kept domestically, as long as a source of light could be consistently kept within the flowers general area. That said, one shouldn’t plant Light Tides near other plants, or they run the risk of the flowers giving all their nutrients to other plants instead of new buds to grow.

At this, Upsilon couldn’t help but compare the selfless flowers to _Nobody_ , as the story still kept readily on his mind. Just like the Light Tides, _Nobody_ gave everything until they disappeared completely. He wondered if the entity could still be alive, or if they even existed in the first place. He mentioned it to Calais at one point, but his teacher, old as he may be, declared he was unfamiliar with the story and assumed it a work of fiction, so Upsilon dropped it before his hopes of ever meeting _Nobody_ were dashed.

The field they’d traveled so far to see was vast and lush, with thick green grass and an abundance of flowers crowding most of the plain. Rocky ruins, varying in size and covered in large patches of moss, sat in piles throughout the area, seemingly serving little purpose. A large pile in particular housed a small pool of golden ichor that centaurs would drink from during visits to refuel.

After the three of them collected some baskets worth of Light Tides, they sprawled out in the field to lounge and relax for awhile. Upsilon basked in the gentle heat, enjoying the warmth that washed over him and cherishing the light. He knew he’d miss it once he had to leave, but he reminded himself he’d be able to come back whenever he could.

His probationary period had reached its halfway mark. Ten more cycles, and Upsilon would be traveling the world and protecting it from infection as a full-fledged module.

Hopefully.

Anxiety gripped him. He found himself no longer relaxed.

He desperately grasped for new thoughts to distract him and failed miserably.

As he sat up, he spotted Pallas snoozing and found it funny how centaurs slept. Pallas had kneeled onto the ground, his many legs folded under him, but his torso sat straight as a rod, arms folded neatly over his chest that rose and fell in a steady rhythm. His head dipped only slightly, ears limp and expression probably the most peaceful he’d ever seen him. When he was like this, Upsilon could almost forget everything between them and see them being friends.

“He tires easily,” Calais said quietly beside him, lowering his book and quill. The only other sounds were of smaller critters chirping and scurrying through the field’s thick grass, which the three of them currently lounged in. Upsilon gave his _Dáskalos_ a questioning look, and he clarified with a shrug. “For a centaur, that is. He is young, and I think his burdens exhaust him more than anything.”

“What burdens?” Upsilon whispered back, spotting Pallas’ ear twitch, but nothing more. Calais’s smile became morose.

“That is a bit of a sad story. He’s got a lot riding on his shoulders, and quite the image to live up to. It can be difficult to walk the same path as someone great. Even more so when that someone was once close to you.”

Upsilon eyed Pallas in silence. Maybe it wasn’t fear, necessarily, that drove Pallas. He wondered what exactly the centaur had gone through, and who he may have lost, to make him hate machines so much.

Pallas awoke suddenly with a shake of his head, and a raised hand scratched the back of his ear. He yawned and then gave the two a drowsy look as Calais smoothly transitioned into talking about medicine and the various herbs and flowers, warning of certain plants that looked similar to others but were quite dangerously different.

Upsilon smiled a little, knowing Calais was trying to cover up their previous topic of discussion. Eventually, Upsilon had the chance to ask something that had been on his mind.

“Why did you choose to learn medicine, _Dáskalos_?”

“Ah, now that is a question.” He said, but his voice was sorrowful and Upsilon suddenly regret asking. Calais continued anyway. “I personally believe the catalyst for all things, good and bad, is love. For a friend, for a mate, or even for a faith we hold dear; love defines how far we go for someone or something. It certainly proved to be the catalyst for me.”

Calais told of a young filly, the centaur word for daughter, who became abandoned by their kind for being too sick and frail. Though this was the norm across many cultures of the world, Calais had a soft spot for young creatures that convinced him to take her in. Even with his limited knowledge of medicine, he managed to keep her fairly healthy throughout her life.

Calais mentioned this was long, long ago, before the centaurs had even molded the bilateral plains; back when he was still a young archer in a once lush and vegetative Chloris who hunted with his winged brothers in Nemesis and spent his life making music and poetic prophecies.

Calais and the filly became attached very quickly, and Calais found a new purpose in her that made him feel whole. He taught her music and they studied medicine together. But after a few hundred or so cycles, she became sick with something he was not able to heal.

“The infection the world fears now reared its ugly head then for the first time, wreaking havoc among our kind, and forcing our numbers low. Despite my efforts, I proved unable to stop it. I’ve devoted much of my life to nothing but medicine, in hopes of aiding the world’s ever-studious search for a cure to this disease we all have been exposed to. Now, there is nary a thing I can not heal. Except the very illness that took her from me.”

Upsilon waited for him to finish, and after a moment of silence, asked her name.

“I gave her the name _Eiríni_ \- ‘Peace’, in the simple tongue - hoping she would find it.” He began to stand, brushing petals and loose grass off his tunic. ”Eventually she did.”

“I’m sorry, _Dáskalos._ ” Upsilon wasn’t sure that cut it, as he felt pretty bad for bringing the subject up. Calais waved him off.

“I miss her terribly. But I would change nothing. She was miserable, even on good days. As much as it pains me, at least it no longer pains her. Now,” he said, glancing at Pallas and motioning with two of his arms. “Care to join me for a drink from the well?”

“Of course, _Dáskalos_.” Pallas stood, taking a moment to stay behind as Calais trotted off. Pallas stared at Upsilon heatedly until their teacher was out of earshot, and Upsilon grimaced as their gaze met.

“Leave alone his memories. You bring harm, can’t you see?”

“I see a lot of things, Pallas.” Upsilon let his eyes dart away, wishing the centaur would just be friendly for a change. He muttered quietly, “I wish you saw as much as I did.”

“Your eyes betray, machine. Never see what we see. Like you, they are weak.”

“But why am I weak to you?” He asked, and Pallas widened his eyes like it should have been obvious.

“So strong, you are, then come. Enjoy drink from well with us.” He almost sounded inviting for a moment, but Pallas knew as well as Upsilon did that he couldn’t eat or drink anything like they could.

Unlike mortals, modules had containers in their bodies that processed charged ichor for use, much like power cells. He couldn’t just consume it. The ichor would eventually rot and corrode his metal insides, inevitably killing him. Everyone knew machines couldn’t eat and drink.

“You can not?” Pallas asked, mockingly surprised. He looked saddened, pursing his thin lips together. “That is sad. I am sorry you are not like us. Truly.” And with that, he trotted off to meet Calais over by the well.

Upsilon again felt very much like he didn’t belong. He kept his eyes low, locked on the single Light Tide twirling between his fingers, and reminded himself of what Calais had said a bit ago. He tried thinking of what _Nobody_ would do. Maybe let it go? Upsilon couldn’t.

There was a problem and it needed to be fixed. It latched onto him like a corrosive acid, eating away at the back of his mind. He hadn’t really had a moment alone with Calais yet to fully bring it up, so he continued to try and think of ways to approach it on his own, until the two centaurs returned. Calais gave him a simple objective to make a page in his journal of everything he could find in the field.

Upsilon couldn’t be sure what this would prove, but did as he was told, grabbing his trusty satchel and swinging it over his shoulder before he bounded off.

In the beginning, Calais had given Upsilon his own leather journal to keep notes and thoughts in. He hadn’t really needed to use it thus far, thanks to his large memory banks and optical cameras capable of capturing images at will. But he supposed Calais was right when he said it would be useful to know how to write, even if he rarely did it.

Even now, as he put down pristine sketches of the things he simultaneously snapped pictures of, he wrote down little notes and reminders in perfect penmanship. When he observed the ruins close up, he put down theories such as what the ruins were from or what purpose they may serve. He wasn’t sure they’d be accurate, but he made a note to ask Calais about them later.

Upsilon rounded his fourth pile of rocks, looking for anything remarkably unique about them. Nothing seemed to be different, except for size and shapes. However, when he turned to round the pile again to move on, something colorful caught his eye from the middle of the mess of stone.

He kneeled between two rocks, getting closer to the pale blue flower that sprouted in the shady grass, comfortably within a crevice. No wonder he hadn’t seen it nestled so closely to the rock.

He retrieved the book on flowers Calais had let him borrow, but as he flipped through the pages, he couldn’t find the one in front of him. None looked evenly remotely familiar, and none he knew firsthand had a description like this one.

It grew on one long stalk, the bulb itself drooping to one side and the petals following in suit. Pale blue in color, it had a thin white mist that covered it, giving it a faint glow. Upsilon made sure to be careful and not touch it, unsure if it would be toxic to metal. Or centaurs, for that matter.

He finished sketching out the flower in nice, clean lines and then jumped to his feet, jogging back to Calais. He wondered if his teacher had more books on flowers, and hoped he could tell Upsilon more about the one he’d found.

As he came closer to the two, Pallas struggled through some language lessons with their _Dáskalos_. Upsilon slowed to a walk, as not to interrupt them, but Pallas stopped mid sentence anyway, as if too embarrassed to continue in front of him. Calais took the hint and greeted Upsilon with a smile.

“Back already? What’d you find?” Upsilon opened his journal to the page with the sketch, handing it over to Calais.

“I couldn’t find it in the book you gave me on Chloris flowers. I… was wondering if a seed had somehow, um... found its way here? Maybe... ” But as Upsilon finished, Calais’ perplexed expression made him wonder if his guess was wrong. He wasn’t sure why that filled him with dread, but it did. He didn’t want to be wrong.

“That’s strange. I’ve never seen a bloom like this here. Will you show me?” He asked gently, and Upsilon nodded, before returning to the rock pile with centaurs in tow.

But as Calais inspected the spot Upsilon pointed out to him, he found nothing. Upsilon felt his metaphorical heart sink. He kneeled next to the rocks, hoping Calais had simply missed the flower as he had the first time, but no. The flower had undoubtedly vanished.

“Are you sure this is the correct place, young nymph?”

“Yes, I’m perfectly sure.” Upsilon said, flabbergasted and mildly annoyed that this chance to bond with Calais had fleetingly abandoned him. “It was here, _Dáskalos_ , I know it.”

Calais was so patient. He tried to find the flower one more time, feeling around the inside of the rock pile and even attempting to smell something foreign. No luck.

Upsilon wanted to pull out his circuits. He felt like the two centaurs were looking at him like he had wires crossed, and it made him feel even worse. The flower was real, he’d drawn a picture of it. How could it just disappear without a trace?

Something the younger centaur had said earlier occurred to him. Pallas had said machine eyes lied. Did he know something about this? Could he have somehow sabotaged Upsilon?

No. That was silly, and Upsilon felt silly for even considering it, he was just frantic. Pallas had been with Calais the whole time, undoubtedly. But Pallas shrugged his shoulders, crossing his arms as he muttered, perplexed.

“Is just flower. What’s problem?”

Upsilon wished he had the courage to tell him to get lost, that he wouldn’t understand; that Upsilon only wanted to feel closer to Calais, who was one of the only entities who’d ever showed genuine compassion towards him. But Upsilon was not courageous, and Pallas did not get lost. They shared a heated glare.

Calais gently made a ‘calm down’ motion with two of his hands.

“I believe you saw a flower,” he said carefully, interrupting Upsilon’s slow spiral into depression by placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. The module didn’t meet his warm gaze, instead dropping his own and feeling ashamed. “I’m just not sure it’s from this plane, young one. Machines have been known to see the in between, things that seem real but are not. Like a dream.”

See the ‘in between’? True, there may still have been much Upsilon did not know about the world, or even himself, but the concept of seeing things that weren’t there couldn’t have been more foreign to him. He didn’t even know what a dream _was_.

“Relax, young nymph.” Calais’ voice was soothing, though. It helped him calm down. “You are in the company of someone who understands the complexities of our world are not easily explained. There is no need to fear rebuke from me. So keep your mind about you. There is an answer to everything, no matter how impossible it may seem. You only have to find it.”

It seemed Calais shared the same view that Phi did, who liked to say that everything was a test, and tests have answers. If they aren’t obvious, then maybe Upsilon should look harder. Like when he rounded the rock pile from the other direction and saw the flower for the first time. He just needed a different angle. And he needed to be more like Calais; calm and collected.

“Thank you, _Dáskalos_.” He said quietly, meaning it. He genuinely cared for Calais, and appreciated the patience the centaur gave him.

“Come, I believe it time we return home. Let’s collect our things.” Calais turned away, making a point to send Pallas on first, which, again, Upsilon silently thanked him for. He wasn’t sure if he could handle a spat with the younger centaur at the moment.

They’d tediously gathered six baskets worth of _Fos Palírroia_ earlier, and now leather straps hung comfortably across the centaurs’ backs, a basket hanging from each end. Calais took two loads, and Pallas the last one. Upsilon felt bad he carried nothing but his own belongings, and followed along behind them.

On the long walk back to the village, Upsilon perused his mental collection of pictures, wishing he’d thought to capture one of the flower instead of just drawing it by hand. It had slipped his mind in the excitement of showing Calais, and his optics were not equipped with open recording yet.

Modules didn’t have infinite storage to record everything all the time, at least not until they connected to the Network. Even now, what Upsilon could keep was limited, and could be lost forever if he wasn’t careful. Ten more cycles, and he could keep a consistent backup of his Self, without fear of losing who he was. And he could record everything he saw and heard, in case he ever had to go back and see if he missed something.

He was so incredibly excited to become a full-fledged module. But right alongside that was the anxiety and fear of failing that haunted him. He wanted to do good. He wanted to save entities. Most of all, and admittedly a little selfishly, he wanted to travel the world and witness _everything_. Becoming a module was the only thing he’d truly wanted since forming as a consciousness in the mind of The One. It was the end all, be all for an entity like him. If he didn’t cut it as a module, that was it. He was stripped of his name and accessories and sent to live as a normal machine among the world.

No module had ever failed probation. Upsilon was _not_ about to be the first.

Imagining himself side-by-side with top notch modules like Gamma or Kappa filled him with the kind of confidence he only wished he could have all the time. In his mind, he fought viruses together with them, aided those in need, and spread medicines to the ends of the world, to those who needed it most.

When he thought about these things, his anxiety melted away. He would do whatever it took to get through the rest of his probation, whether it meant putting up with Pallas or carrying a hundred more crates. He’d do it, even if it meant facing down a starving Hollow.

Wait, what?

Upsilon’s eyes refocused to the present, only to see the large, six-legged insect twitching before him, body low to the ground defensively. Was this another ‘dream’? Hollows couldn’t enter the bilateral planes…

Behind it’s mask-like face, it hissed through a bubble of inky drool, as if confirming it wasn’t another hallucination. As long spindly legs inched it ever so closer, the dripping ichor hit the earth and caused the grass around it to wilt immediately, reminding Upsilon of how toxic it was to organic tissue and, more importantly, how corrosive it was to metal.

He couldn’t bring it in himself to move, he was too in shock of the creature before him. It reared up on its hind legs, and Hollow Ichor spittled from its mouth, coming dangerously close to him.

He went to take a step back, to yelp, to run, but he couldn’t.

It lunged at him, springing with an agility that Upsilon had not expected. He didn’t move. He froze in place, staring at the slack-jawed Hollow soaring right through the air towards him, glistening, inky ichor flinging from its mouth without abandon.

And he just let it.

Calais, bolt of lightning he was, intercepted the Hollow to front kick with enough force that it surely would have crumbled metal like paper, muchless whatever kind of bones or internal structure that kept this organic creature functioning. The Hollow slammed into the ground, long legs frantically kicking to find footing again, to get away from the beast that had, no doubt, crushed its insides. But as it scrambled, Calais kicked it twice in quick succession, before coming down a third time with great force, his two front hooves penetrating the creature’s skull.

Slim corpse still and boney face promptly trampled, the resulting oozy mess made the earth around it fizzle and wilt almost immediately, as if touched by acid. Calais backpedaled a little, hands clenching and unclenching as he promptly approached Upsilon in concern and took him by the shoulders. He begged breathlessly for him to answer.

“Are you injured, Upsilon? Did it get ichor on you?”

Upsilon shook his head numbly. He was clean, but a quick glance at the fur and skin around his teacher’s hooves showed them black and sore, golden ichor already bubbling and bleeding from the wounds caused by hollow ichor’s poisonous properties. He wasn’t even flinching, made no hint that it hurt, even though it looked an awful lot like it did.

Upsilon refused to look Calais in the eyes, ashamed.

“You’re hurt.”

“No, no, it’s quite alright, young nymph. I’ll be fine with some of those Wet Tongues, yes?” But Upsilon wanted none of it. He took a step back from Calais, who looked at him sadly, and then turned away. “Upsilon…”

He bolted away from Calais, feeling useless and a burden on what he saw as one of the most important creatures in the world, and ran.

He completely shut out everything around him, closing off his senses, wishing he could shut off his mind. Guilt, anxiety, and disgust at himself all did a nasty dance inside his head and he briefly wondered if it was possible for machines to vomit without a stomach.

He ran some more.

And he ran until something told him to stop.

So he stopped.

When he reawakened his senses, he had to take a step back. He stumbled, tripping, and fell on his back hard as his eyes adjusted to where he was.

The gloomy Null stretch out before him threateningly, promising a forever sentence in the dark depths where he would slowly rust away. He had run all the way to the edge of the biome. He’d been very close to running right off it, actually, almost like the Null had been beckoning him.

Upsilon finally noticed the hot and heavy gusts of air blowing past him, and he realized he was not alone. Upsilon focused his eyes on the mountain to the right of him. But it wasn’t a living mountain, he reminded himself. It was the Lender of Light, sitting right there beside him.

They were massive, completely filling Upsilon’s vision, and they sat completely still, countless eyes - old, tired, and wise - staring down at him with a sense of knowing. The Ancient’s deep exhales would have been enough to knock most entities off their feet. Thankfully Upsilon wasn’t standing.

He didn’t know what to do. He was so amazed he was this close to the Ancient. And for a moment, he couldn’t figure out why the Lender of Light would have stopped its course, but when Upsilon looked around, he could see the clear path the Ancient took on its journey, and he was sitting right in the middle of the path.

He turned his head back to the Ancient as a thought occurred to him.

“Did… did you… tell me to stop?” The moment of silence made Upsilon feel silly. He thought the Ancient wasn’t responding, wasn’t even sure if it spoke the same language, until he felt a tingly feeling inside him he couldn’t place. He couldn’t explain it, but that had to be the Ancient. It caused him to smile nervously. “What?”

 _Come._ It said, and Upsilon felt a chill through his circuits. The Ancient didn’t speak so much with words, as it did emotions, but it evoked feelings within Upsilon that helped him understand better. He found himself feeling very calm, and more than anything, he felt a deep respect for the Ancient beast before him. The voice was powerful, but kind.

 _Be with light._ It pushed out, and Upsilon realized the Ancient wanted him to join them.

“Yes.” He responded simply, hoping the message and emotion got across. It seemed to, as the Lender of Light lowered its massive head while Upsilon got to his feet. Once the creature stilled, it only took him a moment to see the thick scales lining its body were outcropped enough for him to climb. He did so around the jawline, passing by the Ancient’s dozens of eyes on his way up, which were such a brilliant blue that Upsilon had to resist their mesmerizing charm.

He eventually made it to the crown of the Ancient’s head and, strangely enough, found that the surface of the head and shell contained remnants of an ocean floor, no doubt a symptom of sleeping in lakes its entire life. Dead coral, dried seaweed, marine skeletons, rocky outcroppings… It wasn’t hard for Upsilon to find something to hold on to.

He sat down between an old log trapped under overgrown patches of coral and a rocky pile that looked suspiciously like one of the ruins in the fields. He crossed his legs, and placed a hand against the scales of the Ancient’s head.

He was completely humbled, and he could only hope that was coming across in whatever link they shared.

The Ancient lifted its gigantuan head once more and the initial shifting of the creature’s body caused Upsilon to grab a dead tree branch. He couldn’t help but laugh breathlessly, unbelieving that the Ancient invited him along.

He could feel the Ancient’s happy thoughts in response.

From this high up, he felt like he could see the entire biome. He saw the village speckled around the outskirts of the massive lake, and the fields where he’d picked Light Tides. He could see places he’d never been, like an area of hills and large rock formations, where rivers trickled through, traveling away from smaller water sources. He could clearly see the plains he knew the herds would run through, as well as obvious depressions in the earth lining the Ancient’s path. They always kept to the very edge of the biome, traversing the outskirts from the time they awakened to the time they reached the lake and slept again.

Upsilon wasn’t sure why he was there, but not once did he even think to question it. The Ancient walked, and Upsilon simply came along for the ride. He could feel the giant’s heartbeat thrumming, pumping golden ichor all through its body and causing the glowing patterns along its scales to sort of pulse in tandem. It’s gentle breaths were still loud enough to drown out the rest of the world on exhale, a strong and steady hum releasing from the beast in time with its heavy footsteps.

And after a short while of just enjoying the monotonous sights and sounds of riding, Upsilon felt truly at peace. Every worry kind of melted away with the comforting rhythm of the Ancient.

 _Thank you_ , he said in his mind, pushing his emotions to the Ancient with everything he could muster.

_Always Light._

They were always with him. Upsilon wasn’t sure how he could understand, but he was so grateful that he did.

They spent some time conversing as best they could. The Ancient was very curious about Upsilon, asking many questions about him and wondering his purpose there. It was difficult to communicate certain thoughts through emotions, but he managed somehow. The Ancient had an admirable passion for poetry.

The Ancient spoke of their love for the water as well, and of flowers and their land. They had a deep seated love for the world they brought light and warmth to, and a great respect to the centaurs that protected them. And eventually, Upsilon became familiar with the Ancient enough to feel them pushing love towards him as well.

The whole experience was enlightening.

With everything that had happened, though, Upsilon hadn’t even cared to look at his energy levels. He realized he was running dangerously low on ichor, but when he reached inside his satchel, his only canister had busted. It had leaked all over the contents, including his journal and other books.

It could only have happened when he fell meeting the Ancient. Sadness for his lost literature aside, he addressed the Lender of Light.

 _Need ichor_. He stressed, and the Ancient responded in kind.

 _Calm_ . _Sleep._ He couldn’t really be calm. No one would be able to find him if he lost consciousness on the Lender of Light’s back. He wasn’t even sure if the Ancient knew how machines worked. His worry seeped through their connection, and the Ancient responded once more.

 _Trust._ _Peace. Love._

Whether it be the fact he was running so low on energy or if it was the Ancient’s flood of calming emotions that made him suddenly so drowsy, sleep seemed the only option right then. He wouldn’t have been able to make it back to the village before depleting his remaining energy anyway. If he didn’t preserve what little remained, he’d shut down permanently until someone found him. He really would just have to trust the Ancient.

He positioned himself so his back was against the ruins and turned off his optics to initiate sleep. He pushed one final feeling to the Ancient.

_Peace and love._


	7. Ch. 3 | Sui Generis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Upsilon learns the dark nature of a plant known as Gordian Root, and receives a message from the Ancient that the centaurs are about to have a Hollow problem they are ill prepared for.

Machines don’t dream. They vary in everything from purpose to design, but when modules put themselves to sleep, the only systems still functioning are base power and network connections. Because Upsilon had yet to be connected to the Network, however, there shouldn’t have been incoming or outgoing data. Emphasis on ‘shouldn’t have been’.

He wasn’t sure how long he laid asleep for, but when he awoke, he remembered vague visions of colorful and complicated shapes that confused him. As they fought for space amongst each other, he could recall silhouettes of light and dark. They were in constant movement, spinning with no end and always changing shape, never to cease their eternal dance of push and pull as darkness overwhelmed the other. And yet when he thought about any of it too hard, it blurred into a kaleidoscope of no real meaning until he forgot what exactly he was trying to remember.

Needless to say, he woke up feeling strange, having trouble remembering how he’d gotten to Calais’ hut. He sat up on the pile of leaves he knew as the centaur’s bed and immediately found Calais kneeling beside him, animated with relief.

“Bless the Ancients, I didn’t kill you,” he looked ready to faint as he exhaled. Calais placed a hand to his temple, closing his eyes as he began to ramble. “I followed the instructions Phi left for emergency powercell replacements, but you’d been out for so long, I feared I’d made a mistake. I’ve never seen machines as complicated as you Modules. I haven’t the faintest clue how you bare to function.” He sighed heavily, now calmly looking Upsilon in the eyes. “How do you feel? Are you alright, Upsilon?”

He wasn’t sure. Physically, his body felt fine. But his mind was a complicated mess. How did he get here? How long had he been out? Had Calais been by his side the entire time? Upsilon felt awful having him worry so much.

Another urge from the centaur pulled Upsilon out of his thoughts.

“I’m okay.” He reassured his  _ Dáskalos _ quietly. He attempted a tiny smile, but failed as Calais shifted uncomfortably. The movement caused Upsilon to notice the centaur’s two front legs were heavily bandaged with leaves, where the Hollow ichor had sprayed him. “How… um… your legs...”

Calais stared at him blankly a moment, before smiling and shaking his head.

“I’m healing fine, thanks to the Wet Tongues you and Pallas collected. It isn’t bad. I’m more concerned I tinkered with something inside your chest that shouldn’t have been tinkered with. Or maybe I put the canister in backwards.” Calais suddenly frowned as his eyes grew distant. “What if I bumped something out of place and you self destruct randomly?”

The two met each other’s wide-eyed gaze before Upsilon burst out laughing. Calais looked at him in mock indignation.

“Well!” he crossed his arms, puffing out his chest, “Machines are as foreign to me as the Null. I haven’t a clue what sort of things I could ruin inside your metal hull.”

Causing him to explode by putting the ichor canister in backwards was not one of those things, and Upsilon could hardly pull himself together. The two smiled at each other, but Calais frowned again and asked quickly. “There’s no chance of that happening, though, correct?”

“No, Calais.” Upsilon grinned, and he felt warmth in the centaur’s relieved smile.

“Good.” Calais stood from the dirt floor beside the bed of leaves, turning towards one of his tables to grab the little wooden toy he tinkered with often. “Because I’d hate to lose another pupil to spontaneous combustion.”

“Wait, what?” Upsilon gave him a suspicious look, and Calais feigned he’d only misheard.

Joking aside, the two calmed down enough to talk about what had happened.

Asleep and missing for three cycles, only seven remained for Upsilon’s stay. The centaur had told Upsilon how the younger foals found him on the beach, unsure of how long he’d been there and lamenting his short life. They’d been kind enough to carry him back to Calais, albeit for incineration by tradition, and found out the hard way that machines can’t die so long as their ichor is restored. During Upsilon’s sleep, his friends had stopped by often to see if he had woken yet.

“I’m glad you made friends here, Upsilon. They seemed awfully worried about what would happen to you.” Calais had said, “That said, you might want to tell them you’re not ‘scrap metal’.”

Then Upsilon brought up the Hollow, apologizing profusely for his actions, or rather, lack thereof. He felt better about the incident after much reassurance and a long talk with Calais about a level head and confidence, but both of them were a little worried that a Hollow had managed to break into the bilateral planes at all.

“There’s nothing more I can do, but speculate and do some searching on this side of the world. I’ll need you to do the rest once you leave  _ Neró _ .” Upsilon reassured Calais that he’d do his best, making it top priority after his inauguration as a module.

Then Upsilon brought up his time with the Ancient, and Calais nearly broke his jaw dropping it. The centaur put another hand to his temple as Upsilon finished telling of their short visit.

“ _ A _ !” he breathed in disbelief, ”You actually spoke to them?”

“They have so much love to give.” Upsilon commented, looking down at his hands in his lap, “It’s sad that they isolate themselves from everyone.” Calais folded his arms in thought, resting his chin in a propped up hand.

“I suppose when being alive that long, one may become fastidious with their choice of company.” He shook his head, spreading his arms. “But to so readily accept you into the planes, and then your company as you described. It’s unorthodox.”

“Because I’m a machine?” Upsilon inquired hesitantly. Calais gave him a gentle smile.

“In part, yes,” he said, “I won’t lie to you, it’s rare that a machine sees these lands. But the same could be said for mortals. As you know, no entity is allowed within the bilateral planes without being accepted by the Lender of Light, and that number is low. Being turned away doesn’t mean you’re bad, or unwanted. It simply means you have no purpose here. You, however….” Calais considered something in silence for a moment, tinkering with the toy in his hand, “Well, it seems our Ancient sees a bright future for you.”

Upsilon wondered if that would be a good thing. Surely being accepted by one of the oldest and most powerful creatures in the world couldn’t have been bad. Right? He felt the weight on his shoulders growing.

“I should have asked if they knew anything about the Hollow.” Upsilon mentioned.

“It might be wise to ask if you two speak again.” Calais agreed, nodding.

Eventually they finished chatting, and Calais told him to go have fun with his friends for a while, as his lessons would begin again later that cycle.

Upsilon found the small group of young foals near the shallows, where they usually lounged and frollicked in the cool water after running around until they were hot and tired. When he arrived, the eldest one, Oreus, searched and stumbled blindfolded in the middle of a jubilant game of  _ Tyflómyga _ .

The goal of the game if you were ‘it’ was to tag someone and guess who they were, so you could pass on the blindfold and hit your friends with sticks. Upsilon had played with them once before, and found that because he couldn’t feel with his hands in the same way they could, he had to use his other senses to try and guess, which made it harder. Without the Network, Modules relied heavily on their optics, so to impair that function proved a terrible hindrance.

The foals ran around, teasing Oreus with playful swats from their sticks as he tried to follow them with outstretched arms and unsteady stumbling. Eventually, they noticed Upsilon and contained their excitement as they led the eldest foal straight to him. Upsilon stood there until a blinded Oreus reached out with hesitant hands and groped his face.

He shouted something like, ‘got you!’ in the old tongue. The foals surrounding the two  encouraged Oreus to guess.

“Elatus?  _ Hm…  _ Latreus!” Everyone had to stifle giggles, including Upsilon, and the sound of his voice caused Oreus to pause and frown in thought. Everyone cackled. Oreus suddenly pulled his hands back to lift the blindfold and broke out into a big grin at the sight of his friend. “ _ Silo _ !”

Strong arms pulled Upsilon close and he returned the embrace as best he could. It was awkward hugging something with four arms.

“Good friend!” he exclaimed with a thick accent, repeating the few words he’d learned in the new tongue from Upsilon, “Come! Play!”

Upsilon felt closest to Oreus, out of all the centaur foals. He’d given him his nickname, ‘Silo’, and had been the most inviting since the beginning, which had no doubt encouraged the others to welcome him so warmly.

The foals seemed happy to have Upsilon back, and also to see him in one piece. He joined in on a few games of  _ Tyflómyga _ that inevitably transitioned into their usual banter and good-natured challenges, before eventually, Upsilon tore himself away.

If he could, Upsilon would have spent the rest of his cycles in  _ Neró _ just having fun with his friends. They were sad, Oreus especially, to see him head off soon, but Upsilon had a responsibility to Calais and, perhaps more importantly, to the Modules. He needed to learn as much as he could before he left here so he wasn’t a burden when he became one of them.

As he searched for Calais, he noticed the Centaur village seemed rather empty, much like when he first arrived. He wondered if that meant the Herd currently made their way through the fields, collecting resources.

They must have left while Upsilon had been asleep, and though a little disappointed he’d missed the opportunity to go with them, Pallas would most likely have gone with the herd like last time. Upsilon would be able to relax during his studies until his peer returned, without feeling judged every step of the way.

A distant rumble caused Upsilon to lift his head toward the sky, and then his eyes roamed until he found the Lender of Light on the horizon, slumbering across the plains on their way back to the lake. In a few more cycles, they would be asleep again. He felt the urge to go to them, but resisted it. As important as talking to the Ancient was, he had to be responsible for a bit and find Calais for his next lesson.

After a while more of searching, even stopping by his _Dáskalos’_ hut and not finding him, Upsilon eventually found  Calais relaxing in the shade of a tree, among the outskirts of the village. Upsilon quietly made his way up the shallow hill, sitting beside Calais in silence as he finished jotting down something in his notebook. He had some papers and books scattered around him and, upon first-glance, Upsilon assumed they were language lessons. He had no idea, however, what the small basket next to him held.

“For Pallas, upon his return.” Calais muttered helpfully, noticing Upsilon’s curiosity. That confirmed that Pallas would be gone a while at least. “And some Gordian Root.”

“You haven’t explained Gordian Root to me, yet. It wasn’t in your books.”

“I’m actually still recording what I’ve learned about it. It’s a clever little root that seems to only grow here in  _ Neró _ . It grows underground and sprouts a long stem to the surface for oxygen and water.”

“It needs to breathe?”

“To stay fresh, yes. If the earth is dry where it grows, the Gordian Root will dry out and die as well. That’s why you’ll often see their sprouts around lakes and ponds.”

“How does the Gordian Root know where to grow?”

Calais had been pretty focused on writing things down in his notebook as he spoke, but now he grinned and rested the book in his lap. He look at Upsilon with a twinkle in his eye.

“That’s the clever part. They rely on other creatures to help them. The sprouts grow seeds above the surface, and when a small critter eats the seeds, they’re drawn to water and a soil that only flourishes a few feet beneath the earth’s surface. Then they dig a hole and wait to die, becoming nutrients to the new root.”

Upsilon stared at Calais, not sure how to respond as he went back to his notebook and added lastly, “It’s amazing what the result of chemical reactions can be.”

“You’re… giving that to Pallas?”

Calais paused and then barked out a laugh that threw his head back.

“Ah, of course not. The Gordian Root is for me to study. When it is dried and treated, it’s a fantastic medicine that increases mental and physical aptitude. Plus, like all things here, it helps the body heal itself.”

Upsilon’s shoulders visibly slouched in relief. He had his qualms with Pallas, but that did not mean he wanted him degraded to such a level, and then dead. Although he was mildly concerned with how Calais had discovered the root’s other habits. It seemed like a dangerous medicine, but Upsilon supposed that’s also why Calais studied it.

Upsilon and Calais sat for a while and chatted, and after analyzing some of the lessons the centaur had put together, Upsilon looked up at his teacher.

“Will you teach me the old tongue that centaurs speak?”

“Is that what you’d like to learn next?” Calais gave him a smile and Upsilon nodded. Calais set aside his book. “Then of course. History can wait. Communication, however, is quite necessary, no matter who or where you are. Let’s start with learning a little about the old tongue, shall we? Then we’ll move onto reading and writing, and lastly, speech.”

Calais continued to be amazing in Upsilon’s eyes, and only hoped he would become as knowledgeable, understanding and patient as the centaur who had so warmly embraced him. Calais switched gears so easily, and seemed happy with his life. Upsilon wanted to feel that one day. Until then, he had languages to study.

The old tongue, Upsilon learned, was one of the main languages spoken throughout the world. Most entities knew it and could speak or write it to some extent, because it had been so widely known and used for so long, but other languages began to appear as the world grew bigger. Most biomes had their own language at this point, which most of the time meant it necessary for entities to know two languages, at the very least. Upsilon imagined that, as a module, he would be responsible for learning all of them. So, the old tongue was a good place to start.

It had occurred to him, however, that one living among the bilateral planes would not necessarily need to learn more than their birth tongue. So why would Pallas learn a new language? He asked Calais this, who seemed to be expecting that question.

“As a module, you hold within you abilities most entities can not see, much less come close to understanding. But it is there, and it is a force to be reckoned with. Knowledge, as well, is a power all its own. Information has the power to change everything, starting with one’s options.”

Calais went on to explain how all life inevitably meets an end, and he was training Pallas to take his place should anything ever happen to him.

“That’s…” Upsilon had a hard time searching for words, but couldn’t see Pallas taking their  _ Dáskalos’ _ place, not just because he didn’t really want to imagine  Calais’  death, but also because Pallas didn’t seem to be the kind of selfless and responsible entity their teacher had proven to be.

Sensing Upsilon’s thoughts from the look on his face, Calais smiled.

“He still has a lot of growing to do, yes. But he’s come a long way since he first became my student. Much like you have. Now, back on task, why don’t we learn some vocabulary?”

Learning to read and write a language would probably turn out to be one of the easiest challenges Upsilon would ever face. Generally, anything concerning the optics of a machine would be easily excelled in, and this was no exception. However, mimicking auditory sounds in his own voice caused him some problems. Sure he could record and replay anything Calais said in the old tongue back to him, but learning how to say the words in his own voice proved as difficult for him as any other entity trying to learn a new language. After a tricky start, he soon got the hang of it.

That said, it was incredibly easy for him to recognize words he heard once he learned what meant what, and where there were gaps in his knowledge, context helped. In just half a cycle, he learned to read, write, and speak over two hundred nouns in their various forms. At that rate, he’d definitely become fluent before his time in _Neró_ came to an end.

He spent all his available time studying from the various lessons Calais had written up, and when he waited for his  _ Dáskalos _ to make more, Upsilon would either read the many books written in the old language that Calais had lying around or wander through the village eavesdropping on the other centaurs to test his skills.

The other centaurs did their best to pretend he wasn’t there, while muttering things in their tongue that they assumed Upsilon didn’t understand. The most common phrases were ‘bad omen’ and ‘scrap metal’.

He had no intentions of revealing that he understood every bad thing they said about him, but he tried not to let it get him down. After all, their judgements of him only confirmed what Pallas had told him before. Although, if that hadn’t punched the point home, an elder centaur spitting in his direction as he passed by did.

There was definitely bad ichor between the centaurs and machines. Upsilon wanted to find out why, but unsure of who to ask, he had been turned down by his  _ Dáskalos _ . His teacher insisted the importance of education over myths, but he’d never withheld information from Upsilon before, even if it wasn’t related to his lessons.

At one point, he decided to confront his younger, six-legged friends about it, to see if they had any idea. He found them playing a game on the outskirts of town, involving a makeshift net and smaller critters. Oreus raised a bulging net in his fist, laughing and cheering that he’d won, while fat little furry balls with tails wiggled in the confines of the net, squeaking. Their beady black eyes didn’t seem pleased.

“ _ Geia sou _ ,” Upsilon said in the old tongue, causing the group of foals to turn towards him as he stepped up.

“Silo!” Oreus hollered. Upsilon gave a tiny wave, grinning as his friends lit up at the sight of him. It had only been a cycle since he’d seen them last, but it felt longer after all his language lessons. They all knew his time there would end soon, and Oreus more than anyone visibly mourned it, despite his attempt at hiding how sad it made him.

They sat around in a small circle, while their fur-filled nets hung from nearby trees and squeaked incessantly to be released. For a bit, Upsilon practiced the old tongue with them, finding it easy to keep up. Seeing the way they used words and expressions was sometimes much different than the way Calais had taught him, but Upsilon knew it to be because of the age difference for the foals.

Upsilon hesitated in asking about machines and centaurs, wondering if their view of him would change, though he highly doubted it. They seemed so nice and warm toward him and Upsilon hoped they wouldn’t change their minds so easily. 

After a while of inner turmoil, Upsilon finally felt confident enough to ask, being sure to do so in their tongue, so there were no misunderstandings.

“ _ Do any of you know why your elders dislike me so much?”  _ He earned some giggles, but it was Oreus that answered.

“ _ It’s because you’re machine. Our elders don’t like machines.” _

_ “Yeah, I gathered. But why?” _

_ “Who knows?”  _ Oreus shrugged, leaning on one of the other foals, a female named Hippe; his younger blood sister, Upsilon recalled.  _ “The Elders don’t like anything they don’t understand.” _

_ “Calais is the only understanding elder.” _ Hippe said in a quiet voice,  _ “You’re lucky you’re so close with him, Silo.” _

_ “I can’t wait to study under him.” _ Elatus, the youngest, said, sitting across from Oreus and grinning. His fur, a dark auburn, shimmered golden as he shifted, much like Calais’. It heavily contrasted Oreus and Hippe’s dark metallic coats.  _ “Only twenty-one cycles left.” _

_ “Then we all get to learn new things, just like Silo.” _  Hippe said, clapping with a big smile as she bounced. And before Upsilon could get the conversation back on track, the other foals joined in and everyone shared what they wanted to learn first.

Upsilon sighed inwardly, but smiled, until he noticed Oreus was strangely quiet; a rare thing for him.

_ “You okay, Ore?” _ Upsilon offered, jostling him lightly on the shoulder. Oreus returned it with a laugh and grin that just as quickly grew sad.

_ “You’re leaving soon.”  _ He said simply, and Upsilon frowned.  _ “It’ll be a long time before you come back.” _

_ “But I will come back. As soon as I can.” _ Upsilon reassures his friend. It was then he finally wondered if he could come back at all, actually. He only assumed, but bilateral planes worked differently.

As if thinking the same thing, Oreus shook his head and said, rather loudly,  _ “The first thing I want to learn is how to leave this place.” _ Conversation died down then, the others focused on the two of them.

Upsilon furrowed his brow, unable to imagine why anyone would want to leave  _ Neró _ , a literal paradise. But Oreus answered the unspoken question with intense eyes and a grimace.

_ “This place isn’t all that great. There are things I want to do that I can’t do here.” _

_ “Like what?”  _ Upsilon asked, and Oreus clenched his fists, his eyes becoming downcast.

_ “I should have been born with wings, not an extra pair of hooves. I want to fight like our brothers and sisters in Nemesis. I want to protect my home, even if that means I have to leave it.” _ And then for a moment, his fierce expression grew sad and his distant eyes of the future now rested on Upsilon beside him.  _ “But most of all, I want to stay with my best friend. So, I will find a way to leave here.” _

A moment of silence passed. Upsilon felt touched. No one else had been so open with him, besides Calais. But Upsilon still struggled to know if Calais, though warm and embracive, was anything more to him than a teacher following obligatory instructions.

Upsilon didn’t know how to respond to Oreus. He wasn’t even sure if what his friend wanted would be possible, but he did admire Oreus for being so driven and passionate. Upsilon smiled supportively.

_ “If anyone can leave this place and follow their dreams, it’s you, Ore. It’d be an honor to fight and grow alongside my dearest friend.” _

They clasped hands and grinned at each other, the others cheering. For the moment, Upsilon’s own dreams about becoming a module and fighting infection felt revitalized, even stronger in the face of his friend’s determination. A bright future couldn’t be more visible with a fire like his lighting the way.

But reality set in as, later, Upsilon trudged alone across the vast grassy plains that surround the village, on his way to speak to the Ancient about Hollow.

It felt strange leaving the village on his own, but he had Calais’ permission as long as he didn’t die, which greatly summarized the lecture on safety he’d received before leaving. It wasn’t until now that Upsilon realized Oreus’ determination had been contagious, which had led to Upsilon convincing Calais that he was ready for the responsibility of being alone, in a place he was barely familiar with. His  _ Dáskalos _ had allowed it, albeit not easily.

Upsilon wondered if that said more about him or Calais.

His thoughts went to dark placeses as he pondered Hollow. He found it a small chance the Ancient even knew anything about them. Would it even help if they did? The incorporeal borders that protected the bilateral planes were kept secure by the  _ Angelos _ . Most of them had died out, along with their bilateral planes as a result, but some still remain. Calais, as one of the few remaining  _ Angelos,  _ constantly observed the border of  _ Neró  _ to ensure it’s security and he said nothing had been wrong.

Which made Upsilon wonder if a Hollow appearing actually was a bad omen.

He crushed his panic before it had time to bloom and picked up his speed to a leisurely jog. The Ancient wasn’t much further. The earth around him already shook at their massive footsteps and Upsilon had trouble maintaining his balance, until the Lender of Light came to a complete stop. They let out a breathy groan of relief and then reached out to form a connection.

Upsilon felt their touch blossom inside his mind as he ran, an intense warmth that seemed to envelope his thoughts like a soft, feathery blanket. It was a feeling that urged him to feel safe, and at peace; a feeling that made him think his worries weren’t so troublesome and everything would work out eventually, no matter the problem. He could just forget his troubles for now and relax...

He shook his head, trying to stay focused. A Hollow, here, was serious. He had to learn how to better separate his emotions and thoughts when speaking to the Ancient.

_ My [sui generis] returns. _ They say in feeling. There was something, a feeling in there, lost in translation. Was that them trying to communicate his name?

He stopped jogging below the Ancient, who’s great reptilian head tilted to lay half a dozen, brilliant blue eyes on him. He smiled genuinely and gave a small wave.

_ May I join you? _ He asked, and he could’ve sworn the Ancient smiled.

_ Always welcome. Much love. _ Again, he felt touched, so soon after his talk with Oreus. He realized he actually had felt genuine affection from other entities before his friend. The Lender of Light had shown him the greatest kindness of all: a peace of mind.

_ Many thanks.  _ He told the Ancient.  _ Much love. _

They lowered their head so Upsilon could climb up the jawline like last time, using the tiny protruding bones - well, tiny for the Ancient - to climb with ease. He gave the Ancient a big grin as he passed by the closest eye, and had to tear his own away before he became mesmerized at their color and detail. Ocean blue was such a pretty blend of color.

He found his spot between the big rock pile and dead log, basking in the heat radiating from the massive light source behind him. He wondered if the light had any weight to it like its shell, and if the Ancient ever felt tired of carrying it.

The Ancient was off before he could say anything, jerking him back and causing him to hold on. As slow as they seemed to move from a distance, they covered an insane amount of it up close. Upsilon found himself watching the trees and rocks pass by below in a blur. He smiled a little, and then raised his eyes out to the pastures. The seemingly infinite grassy plains looked much less ‘infinite’ from up here.

He noticed a thick blemish in the distance, with scattered dark spots surrounding it. That had to be the herd, out fetching supplies together. A sudden pang of worry made him hope they were okay.

_ Distracted. Curious, worry? Safe? _ They asked, concern apparent in the flood of emotions.

_ Yes. _ He said, eyes darting back to the Ancient. He observed the beautiful scales below him and placed a hand their comfortingly, honored the Lender would worry about someone so small, like him.  _ Curious, Hollow here? _

_ Yes. _ And that confirmed Upsilon’s worst fear. Another pang of worry, stronger this time, gnawed at him as they continued,  _ Please protect. Home, important. _

If Upsilon had a heart, he would have feared it’d burst. He hadn’t been expecting that response. He wanted the Ancient to tell him it was a mistake, that maybe they had let the Hollow in on accident and no more would be coming, or it was as simple as the Ancient blinking in the Hollows’ general direction and they’d just  _ poof. _ As for asking for protection, it made sense to Upsilon if he just thought about it for a moment.

The Ancient - old and powerful, yes - was still limited in what it could do to protect itself. That’s why the bilateral planes existed, after all. Upsilon had spent so much time being in awe of the Ancient and their power, that he hadn’t considered they’d maybe felt the same about him?

Realization dawned on Upsilon that this may have been why the Lender reached out to him in the first place. As a Module, it was almost obligatory of Upsilon to protect the Ancient with his unique abilities. But he hadn’t been inaugurated yet. He had no powers, he was barely a machine at this point, and now Upsilon didn’t know what to do when an Ancient made the wrong call.

Protect an Ancient when he had no powers whatsoever?

_ I don’t think I can _ . He tried to convey this to them, unable to hide his fear.

_ Sui generis can. _ They pushed thoughts of comfort that helped, if only a little. Upsilon tried his hardest to stay focused.

_ Curious, Hollow, how many? _

_ Many come. _

A moment of silence from Upsilon as he registered what ‘many’ Hollow would look like.

“When?” He said aloud, unintentionally.

_ Soon. _

Soon was bad. The herd still roamed out in the further most fields, unable to protect the village or the Ancient. Plus, weapons and defenses weren’t really a common thing in this plane, due to the complete lack of danger. How soon was soon? Did the Ancient have a good sense of time? He asked, and wished he hadn’t.

_ Attack soon, before sleep. _

The Ancient should reach the water’s edge in less than two cycles, so the Hollow would attack sometime before then. That was not a lot of time to prepare a race that hasn’t fought in many, many cycles, not to mention how unusual this was in the first place.

Hollow did not have pack mentality and were extremely territorial when making their homes along the underside of biomes. They rarely grouped up in even small numbers, much less enough to break through the guard of a bilateral plane, which they also shouldn’t have been able to do on their own. Unless it had something to do with their collecting numbers. He dreaded knowing how many there might be. What was drawing them here? The Ancient?

_ Curious, do this? _ He pushed an image to the Ancient’s mind of what he’d like to do, and they responded in kind.

_ Yes. _

_ Have to go. _ He said to them.  _ Will return, peace and love. _

_ Peace and love. _

Upsilon stood, hanging onto the dead tree beside him as the Ancient pushed forward at a slightly increased speed. Slightly for them, though, was a lot for Upsilon and he had to brace himself.

It took too much time to stop and run back to the village, and he couldn’t very well go undamaged if he were to jump from this height. So he wouldn’t get down at all.

He bolted forward, down the center of the Ancient’s lowering head, and leapt onto the small rounded knob at the tip of the Lender’s nose, crouching as he landed. All he had to do was time it right as the Ancient flung its head back to launch himself through the sky, straight for the village.

It happened quickly, and suddenly Upsilon soared through the air, trying to make himself as aerodynamic as possible so he didn’t fall too short. For a moment, his eyes fell downward and as the ground flew by in a haze, he realized he was flying and got all giddy.

Not flying, he had to remind himself. He just got launched by a gigantic creature and could easily fall from the sky to his mangled death at any moment should he lose composure. His excitement quickly became anxiety as he slowed ever so slightly and began to arc. The upside is that he was passed over the village a moment later and straight into the water.

_ Splash. _

He broke the surface like a bullet, then spread his arms and legs to slow himself down considerably. He bounced off the bottom harmlessly and push himself toward the beach as he rose to the surface, attempting to work through what he’d say to Calais when he found him.

“Hollow are coming to kill us.” Not that.

Calais gave him a strange look. Upsilon was standing in the doorway sopping wet, making the dirt floor of the hut a little muddy. His wide-eyed expression gave Calais a bad feeling. Calais carefully set his armful of books and papers down on the table.

“Pardon? Upsilon, are you okay?”

“No…” He grimaced, then quickly explained to Calais what the Ancient had told him.

“How big is this pack, exactly?” Calais asked, frantically searching for something among his shelves.

“I don’t think the Ancient could tell, just that there were a lot.” Meanwhile, Upsilon stood in the center of the hut, helplessly watching him go from one side of the hut to the other, pulling out baskets and plants in search of whatever it was he looked for.

“Two cycles is not a lot of time.” Calais murmured, pausing his search to begin pacing. He raised a hand to his temple in thought. “We are severely unprepared for this. Nothing has ever penetrated the walls around our plane before.”

“Other bilateral planes have disappeared in the past,” Upsilon began, watching his teacher with as much concern as the other felt. “Surely you designed some kind of defense in case it happened here?”

“Of course I did.” Calais responded, suddenly looking grave. “However, it seems my efforts were inadequate.” He paused for a moment, eyes far away in thought and what Upsilon thought may have been hard self-criticism. Then Calais raised his hands and shook his head. “Nevermind that, we must face this issue as it is. If we fail to protect this plane from disappearing, then the Ancient will suffer the same fate.”

“What will we do, then?” Upsilon asked, hating how small the sentence made him sound. He had never been in a situation like this, and had no control or power to help in this place.

Calais let out a heavy, burdened sigh and lifted his amber irises to Upsilon. There was a fierceness there Upsilon hadn’t seen from his  _ Dáskalos _ before.

“We protect our home at all cost.” He saved Upsilon from having to ask what exactly that meant by giving him orders to fetch the younger foals, so they could gather up the remaining centaurs in the village and Calais could warn them all to make preparations.

Upsilon booked it through the village, looking high and low for any sign of his friends, until he ran past an open hut and skidded to a halt. Endeis, one of Oreus’ friends and one of the fastest centaurs in the entire village, carried a large vase of water. She jumped when Upsilon stumbled to a halt in front of her hut, causing her snowy white fur to stand on end. He remembered to switch to the old tongue at the last second.

“ _ Endeis, go to Calais. He needs you. _ ”

“ _ Me? _ ” She asked, confused, and Upsilon clarified quickly.

“ _ He needs everybody who’s left in the village, so tell anyone you see on the way there. Where are the others? _ ”

“ _ Down by the shallows. Hey! Wait! _ ” But before she could stop him, he disappeared again.

Just as she had said, the others were down by the shallows dipping their hooves in the water filled with Wet Tongues, playing some kind of game that Upsilon didn’t have time to remember the rules of at the moment.

He came up on their giggles and Oreus gave him a big wave and smile that melted as Upsilon grew closer. The look on his face was enough for all of them to get a little serious.

_ “Silo?” _

_ “There’s an emergency and I need your help gathering the entire village at Calais’ hut.” _

_ “There aren’t many, the herd is out.” _ Hippe said, and Upsilon nodded at her.

_ “I know, but we need whoever is still here and they’ll only ignore me.” _

_ “What is it, Silo?”  _ Oreus was standing now, throwing a couple of stray Wet Tongues back in the water as he came closer.

_ “The bilateral planes may have been breached.” _ The foals all shared a quizzical, concerned look.  _ “Hollow are on the way and we need to be prepared.” _ Their silence was going to drive him mad, until he realized they were waiting for Oreus to respond. Upsilon hadn’t realized exactly how much influence he had over the others.

“ _ This is great.” _ He finally said, and Upsilon’s mouth parted slightly in confusion.  _ “My wish will come true after all. I’ll get to fight alongside my best friend!” _ He yipped and did a little dancing hop as he grinned and trotted closer to Upsilon, grabbing him by the shoulders.  _ “Leave it to us! We’ll gather the others.” _ The foals cheered, not quite as jubilantly as Oreus had, and Upsilon was watching them gallop off to collect the rest of the village before he, too, set off in return to Calais.

His  _ Dáskalos _ was already fending off some worried centaurs in the old tongue, and Upsilon caught that he’d explain everything when the others arrived. When he had a spare moment, Upsilon approached him.

“Where is Endeis?”

“Right now, speed is key, so I sent her to fetch the herd. It isn’t ideal, her being so young, but I sent her with another to ensure her safety.”

It would have been safer if Upsilon had gone instead, but he wouldn’t question Calais’ judgment. He seemed familiar being in this kind of situation.

Upsilon noticed him holding a long, dark wooden staff in the shape of a capital ‘T’, where golden tapestries hung on either branch and the intersection of the three points came to a circular impression instead. In this circle was something glimmering golden.

_ Wait, _ Upsilon thought,  _ that’s Calais’ necklace. _

Calais had removed the amber piece from its chain and placed it in the center, where it fit snuggly. The same symbol that rested on the amber piece was on the golden tapestries, too, though in slight variance. To him, the symbols meant nothing, but Upsilon was starting to feel like it meant more to Calais and the centaurs than he thought.

He felt terrible just waiting, and while he did, his mind played terrible tricks on him thinking about what would become of them. He had no idea how to help, he couldn’t fight and he was the smallest entity in the village. He was only going to be a hindrance.

Eventually, the remaining centaurs trotted up to the group surrounding Calais’ hut and Upsilon’s friends wormed their way to the front. Oreus had a fire in his eyes and fists at his sides, but for once, it didn’t make Upsilon feel better. Calais raised his staff and his other arms, asking them all to quiet down before he spoke to them in the old tongue.

_ “There is a threat heading toward us as we speak. Hollow will burn down our homes with acid, consume our ichor, and take our family. But not without a fight from us. _

_ “We were once a great enemy to any who opposed us. We have grown soft, but in order to keep our home, it is essential that we once again rise to the call of battle like our brothers and sisters do in Nemesis. We are centaurs! And this is our home and our family! Protect them with your life!” _

Upsilon had never seen Calais so fired up, and angry. His mood was infectious, as the gathered centaurs nodded feverishly and murmured in agreement, clinging to his words. Oreus, especially, growled out a ferocious war cry, pumping his fist into the air. How old were some of these centaurs, young and old? Could they even fight? Or would they just get themselves killed? It seemed like Calais had planned for that already.

_ “Everyone who can, will fight. Those of you who can not, will help in other ways. Tending to the wounded, dispersing weapons, whatever needs to be done to help each other.” _

_ “We have no weapons!”  _ Someone called out, and Calais agreed.

_ “Not yet. We will use the rock, wood and twine from our homes to make weapons, and they can be repaired later. What is more important than weapons is armor. Leather, wood, and leaves will disintegrate under the acidic ichor of Hollow. I need ideas. Until then, go and make yourself weapons, and extra for the herd when they arrive. Return here when you’re ready.” _

They dispersed, rather frantically. Even the younger foals galloped off, determined in their mission. Except for Hippe, who trotted up to Upsilon and looked nervous. Upsilon shook his head.

_ “You don’t have to fight, Hippe. You can help tend to the wounded.” _

_ “It’s not that, Silo. It’s Oreus.” _ Ah. She was worried about her brother.  _ “He has the fire to fight, but he’s never done it before. I think he is rushing into this because of what happened when we were young.” _

_ “What happened then?” _ Upsilon asked.

_ “A long time ago, one of our own got infected on the outside and brought it back here. He changed in his sleep and caused many deaths, including that of one of our most beloved elders, Rhaecus. Much like Calais, he was so loving to us all, and the first to stand and protect us younger foals. Oreus and Rhaecus had been inseparable. I think he is blinded by his memories of anger and pain.” _

That was a bit to take in.

Upsilon exhaled heavily, the fans in the back of his throat area whirring as he did so. It wasn’t hard to figure out what she wanted.

_ “If he’s that fired up about this, what makes you think I can talk him out of fighting?” _

_ “He loves you like he loved Rhaecus, Silo. He speaks of you fondly, like you are apart of our family. I can’t help but agree.” _ Joy flooded his head, but Upsilon didn’t let it show. His eyes darted away slightly as she finished.  _ “He will listen to you more than anyone. Please convince him to do something else.” _

He didn’t want to crush his best friend’s dreams. Then again, he also didn’t want to see him dead. They had a future of fighting together, and neither of them were ready to start it now.

_ “I’ll do my best, Hippe.” _

_ “I’ll be in your debt, Silo. Thank you.” _ She gave him a quick hug, enveloping him in those four arms of hers, and then bounced off to find her brother. Upsilon placed a hand to his temple. Would this be the wrong decision?

“Hippe is the sweetest.” Calais said, breaking Upsilon’s train of thought. He hadn’t realized his  _ Dáskalos _ was still nearby.

“Would it be right of me?” Upsilon asked, pressing his lips together, “Or is it selfish of me to want Oreus to stay back, too.”

“It’s selfish.” Calais admitted, shrugging his shoulders and tilting his head. “But nothing in life would be accomplished if we weren’t selfish. Even when we give to others, it is because we want; for our own benefit. We wouldn’t do it otherwise.”

This didn’t make Upsilon feel better. Calais spoke calmly as he continued, “Objectively, Oreus has never had a single serious fight in his life, whereas most of the elder centaurs have. He would be more of a liability on the field than anything. He’d be better off helping you and Hippe aid the wounded.”

It looks like Calais had no intention of giving Upsilon the choice to fight. Understandable. Upsilon had no fighting experience, either. But medicine? Medicine he could do. Maybe it would be better to convince Oreus to stay back.

“I’ll need to help the others a lot, won’t I?”

“They haven’t yet had the privilege of learning the lessons you have. So you’ll have to teach them as you go. We have plenty of medicines and first aid ready to pack, and water will be necessary. Why don’t you start doing all that?”

“Yes,  _ Dáskalos _ .” He said out of habit, and then quickly added, “Oh! Calais? I thought of something we could use for armor.”

Not long after, Upsilon had layers of thick leather coated in Wet Tongue slime wrapped around his arm, which he held out to Calais confidently.

“Upsilon, there are better ways to test this.”

“Hollow ichor is most effective against metal. If this works for me, it’ll work for the centaurs.”

Calais grimaced, opened his mouth to retort, and then gave up and sighed.

“Part of me wishes you were still too shy to talk sense.” He took Upsilon’s arm in one hand and brought up a small glass vile of Hollow ichor, which he’d collected from the Hollow that had attacked many cycles ago. After hesitating a moment, he tipped the vile until a few drops fell out and onto the treated leather, where it pooled and didn’t move unless Upsilon did. It didn’t even sizzle, it just sat there and jiggled as Upsilon shifted to get a better look.

“Fantastic. Wet Tongue slime is a natural repellant.” Calais raised another vile filled with water and the Hollow ichor slid right off, falling to the floor and dissolving a small hole in the dirt. “What gave you the idea?”

“I guessed.” Upsilon said, and Calais actually sounded mad when he yelled at him.

“Upsilon!”

“I’m kidding! I may have been unsure it would work, but it seemed that since Wet Tongue slime is sticky, just like the acid from Hollow, I was hoping that, by combining two adhesives, it would kind of cancel out the effect, you know?”

“You should not have risked yourself like that when we have no way to mend your damages.” Calais was upset because he worried for him, and Upsilon understand that, but all that mattered right then was saving the plane and those who lived there. Upsilon gave his  _ Dáskalos _ a quick apologetic smile, and then continued explaining.   
“As long as the leather doesn’t get punctured down to the skin, the slime should resist any loose flinging ichor and heal minor wounds. It’s better than nothing.”

A moment of silence passed, and Upsilon couldn’t tell if the look Calais gave him meant ‘proud, but I won’t show it’ or ‘I can’t believe you took a risk like that’. So Upsilon made another suggestion to ease the tension.

“Instead of wasting tons of leather trying to outfit everyone, make cloaks for them all. Then all they need is leather to cover their arms and faces.”

“Remarkable idea.” Calais admitted, face growing thoughtful. “I’ll start preparing the leather, then.”

“And I’ll start putting together the supply kits.” Upsilon said, and he smiled, happy he finally did something right.

They were just about to part ways to perform their duties, when screams and frantic yelling erupted from the village. Calais and Upsilon shared a look before they rushed outside, Upsilon grabbing a small satchel with first aid in it.

The herd returned, but not in the shape they had been in when they left.

Some of them were hurt or weakened, limping alongside their stronger herd members. And then there were the ones carrying blankets between them, carrying the wounded who were no longer able to walk.

He was gonna need a bigger med kit.

Calais bolted past him and Upsilon followed suit.

_ “What happened?” _ His  _ Dáskalos _ said, panicked as he approached a couple of centaurs Upsilon didn’t know. They carried a blanket between them with a smaller body in it, and Upsilon feared the worst.

_ “I-I couldn’t keep up with her.” _ He spoke quickly, as if trying to save himself from stumbling. Upsilon peaked over the edge of the blanket and shuddered at the sight of Endeis. Her face, neck, and chest were mutilated from Hollow ichor. “ _ She ran too far ahead and didn’t hear my warnings!” _ The centaur made more excuses. Upsilon screamed at him, unintentionally in the wrong tongue.

“You were supposed to protect her!” Though the words were lost on him, the emotion made an impact, and Upsilon forced them to lay the blanket down. He tested her pulse, which was faint, but still there, and dug into the bag he had with him as he ignored the centaurs talking around him.

He pulled out a small wooden bowl with Light Tide petals and dried Gordian Root, crushing them together with a sharp rock. He mixed in some water and Wet Tongue slime to make it pasty and began to delicately wash out the wounds, clearing away the Hollow ichor with slime and water, and replacing it with the paste he’d mixed together, starting with her throat and working his way up.

“I didn’t teach you how to do that.” Calais said, kneeling beside him. Upsilon hadn’t realized he’d been there, and kept his eyes strictly on applying the medicine as he answered.

“You didn’t have to.” He said.

Because for some reason, he already knew.   
  



	8. Ch. 4 | The Gordian Knot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Hollow have attacked the centaur village and Upsilon takes some serious damage while tending to the wounded with Oreus, forcing him to take matters into his own hands.

Young as he was, Upsilon’s idea of battle understandably never fell in line with reality. But being in the middle of the battle cries and desperate screaming, being sprayed by flinging ichor as someone became impaled beside him - that made him realize how sheltered this place had made itself from the rest of the world and how unprepared they had been to face it. And as consequence of being here, he, too, had been sheltered.

Upsilon proved much more useful to the centaurs as a medic than a fighter, but it seemed a lot like the centaurs were losing this fight either way.

Including the dozen of them playing doctor, there were almost a hundred centaurs in the village, but the horde of festering Hollow outmatched them five to one. It wasn’t really the probability of winning, at this point, that simmered in their minds, it was wondering how many of them would still be alive once it all ended.

Upsilon spent twenty cycles treating his future as though it would always be as peaceful and calm as it had been up until that point. Becoming a Module meant he’d be free to roam the world and learn to his will, but he’d forgotten the reality of his world because he had yet to experience it. He knew the outside world was harsher, darker, and unfriendly in most cases, but it had never really sunk in until a wounded centaur’s chest exploded in his face due to a heart full of Hollow toxins. He couldn’t throw slime on half a heart and expect it to heal with good intentions. Not to mention, he immediately panicked, trying to rid all traces of the Hollow ichor from his highly vulnerable shell with water and more slime. Even still, tiny, corroded cavities scattered along his face, chest and arms, which he lacked the tools to mend.

This place had prepared him for very little. What could he possibly learn about the world by training here? Why had this been the place they sent him? At this point, it felt like a cruel joke.

But his emotions were being gravely influenced by his situation, making his thoughts distracting. So he reapplied some Wet Tongue slime to his face and arms before numbing his mind while he worked.

Before the Hollow had attacked, he’d had just enough time to teach the basics of his training to the other medics - the majority of which consisted of his friends and some older centaurs who couldn’t fight well or at all. While Calais went off to protect the Ancient with a small group of centaurs, Upsilon spent his side of the fight running between the fallen to see who needed the most help and to make sure the field medics were following the correct methods. But most of all, he tried to keep Oreus as busy as possible, to keep him from being tempted to run off into the heat of battle.

Oreus did great aiding Upsilon in his duties, but through his determined and calm demeanor, Upsilon thought he seemed conflicted. He wanted to fight, yet neither of them would stand much of a chance against the Hollow and both of them knew that. The difference was that Oreus didn’t care about being ready, he just wanted to help the others on the frontline. So Upsilon did his best to distract his friend, who turned out to be, unsurprisingly, great muscle.

Oreus made all the difference by helping move the wounded to safer areas. The battle was taking place in the outer field, not far from the village, but far enough that the Hollow hadn’t caught scent of all the golden ichor seeping from the wounded, yet. Oreus’ strength and speed helped pull a lot of the centaurs out of further danger, and then Upsilon freely mended their wounds under cover. After the incident with the exploding heart, Upsilon felt a wave of anxiety every time they had to go back out to the field.

As the two of them dragged another centaur back to the huts and rested him against the wall for Hippe to look after, Upsilon caught Pallas beside Endeis, where he was supposed to be, tending to her wounds. Pallas attempted to apply golden ichor over some of them, and Upsilon had to intervene.

“You have to make her drink it.” he said lightly. Pallas lifted his blue eyes and furrowed his brow slightly, causing the sensitive, healing tissue around the left side of his face to wrinkle.

 _“Heal wounds,”_ the centaur replied in the old tongue, his tone empty of emotion as he repeated the words Upsilon had said to him so many times. He returned to trying to dab the ichor-soaked cloth against Endeis’ wounds and Upsilon put a hand on his as gently as possible to stop him. Their eyes met, Pallas surely confused.

 _“We’ve run out of resources to make that medicine.”_ Upsilon muttered in the old tongue quietly, voice soft like he was correcting a toddler. _“Ichor alone won’t heal this, you have to make her drink it.”_ He stepped over Pallas’ sitting form, careful to avoid his two broken back legs, and positioned himself on the bed of leaves behind Endeis so he could carefully lift her up and lean her against him. _“Put the flask to her lips.”_

Pallas hesitated, eyes a little unfocused, but he finally did. Upsilon angled her head back so it would go down, making sure to hold the makeshift bandages hiding the holes in her throat so they wouldn’t come loose. He carefully laid her back down and swapped the ichor cloth that Pallas had for a clean one from a large vase of water. As he handed it over, he gave Pallas simple directions he could understand in his condition.

 _“Clean wounds with water, and take your medicine, too.”_ Upsilon grabbed a different flask from the nearby table and pressed it into his hands. _“You drink this. And don’t move, only care for Endeis.”_

Pallas was slow to react, looking from the flask in his hand to Upsilon excruciatingly slowly, but gave him the tiniest of nods to communicate that he understood.

Upsilon stood there a moment to make sure he followed directions and then ensured Elatus would check on him when able. After Upsilon refilled his med bags and walked out the doorway with Oreus, his friend muttered quietly in the old tongue.

_“Pallas has been a jerk for a long time. But seeing him like this just makes me sad.”_

_“I’d rather not talk about it.”_ Upsilon said in kind, unsure of how to respond due to the damper he had on his emotions. He tried to stay focused, but his clingy thoughts kept pulling him far away.

_SLAM._

Upsilon hit the ground so hard, his satchel flew off his shoulders and the contents went everywhere, including a few shattered jars of golden ichor. He lifted himself and shook his head to rid himself of dizziness before realizing Oreus was waving off a screeching Hollow in front of him, trying to stay between them both.

Upsilon pulled himself to his feet and stumbled, feeling imbalanced. Did he hit his head?

The Hollow stood bigger than Oreus and Upsilon combined, and it held no fear toward two walking sacks of ichor. The beast had no difficulty slamming into the two of them again, using its mask-like face and blackened horns to send them both flying another ten yards before they could react.

This impact turned out much worse for Upsilon, who landed first and then promptly felt something inside his shell crack as a very heavy centaur landed on top of him. He instinctively tried to push Oreus off, who awkwardly fumbled to get back to his hooves. Despite a limp, he stood, and reached out to help Upsilon before he paused and made a remark about his body.

Upsilon immediately knew what he referred to. Not only could he not move his arm from the shoulder down, but the left side of his chest had been fractured, quite badly, to the point you could see the wiring and a glimpse of the engine inside his chest. He needed to cover it up immediately, before his insides were exposed to particles that would cause malfunction, or worse. He wasn’t sure exactly what would happen if his engine came in contact with Hollow ichor, but he knew it would be far from good.

The look on Oreus’ face said that it should have hurt him a lot, and if he were an organic entity, that may have been the case. But in that moment, Upsilon appreciated that machines didn’t feel pain.

He ignored the warnings ringing in the back of his mind and climbed to his feet with the help of Oreus. The moment he thought about the Hollow taking its time in devouring them he realized why it hadn’t attacked them yet.

It greedily snuffed up all of the spilled ichor in the dirt, lapping at it desperately as though it hadn’t eaten in a very long time, and then Upsilon got an idea.

 _“We n-need to d-d-”_ Upsilon stuttered, forgetting how to say what he wanted to say in the old tongue, so he tried simple words in the one he knew. “Dis-s-st-” His voice locked up completely, which was a difficult thing to explain, but words did not come easily to him in any language at the moment. He had definitely hit his head.

He groaned in frustration and grabbed Oreus by the shoulder with his good arm so he’d pay attention to him, then pointed at the Hollow and then themselves to try and get his point across.

 _“Silo… just speak. I don’t understand.”_ Upsilon tried not to lose his patience, desperately searching for something…

Screw it.

He bolted around the Hollow, just out of range that it didn’t look up from digging through the satchel’s contents, and threw on a cloak of leather from the hut. As long as it was put on inside out, the untreated side wouldn’t repel ichor. Then he grabbed a new bag from inside the hut, filling it with as many jars of ichor from the shelves as he could. When he could barely close the bag’s latch, he grabbed one more jar and ran back outside, stopping some yards away with the Hollow now in between him and Oreus.

He couldn’t get his voice to work, so he popped the cork on the jar of ichor and drenched himself in it, before tossing the glass jar at the Hollow’s boney black feet and causing it to loudly shatter.

The Hollow ceased its advances on Oreus and turned around hastily to see Upsilon raise his good arm in a ‘come at me’ fashion before turning and bolting away. The Hollow screeched in outrage, or maybe hunger, and started an awkward hobbling gallop after him. It was not a good runner with its size, but neither was Upsilon in his state. He’d wanted Oreus to do this because he would have been much faster, but this would have to do.

He ran all the way from the village with the big Hollow in tow and he didn’t stop after he reached the thickening battle. Instead, he retrieved another jar from his bag and hurled it as hard as he could into a group of Hollow to his right. The glass shattered directly in the face of one, causing it to flinch and chirp, disoriented.

Ichor went everywhere, and after a moment, all six Hollow began to immediately attack one another, mistaking their own kind for prey, or maybe not caring and simply wanting their next meal. They were doing fine tearing eachother apart with sharp teeth, spiked tongues, and those long, spear-like arms, but then the big Hollow came barreling right through them, immediately crushing the skull of one with a foot and taking half of another wailing into its mouth to choke down.

More than what Upsilon had hoped for, he saw this as a leap toward victory. He jogged through the field, passing by centaurs who were still fighting and for the ones who were becoming overwhelmed, Upsilon did the same thing, throwing the ichor at the Hollow furthest from the centaur so they’d fight each other. The centaurs began to understand what was happening, and attacked what distracted Hollow they could, killing them off much more easily one by one and letting them do most of the damage to themselves.

It was working fantastically, but Upsilon would soon run out of ichor at this rate.

Then he heard screeching some yards to his left and turned his head as he ran, seeing Oreus doing the exact same thing. Upsilon grinned, thankful his friend had come to understand after all.

With Oreus helping the centaurs take on the smaller Hollow, Upsilon had to figure out what to do with the big one. He turned now, to see it harassing a nervous centaur, and Upsilon quickly ran to divert its attention. Still covered in ichor, all he had to do was run between the two and the Hollow immediately followed, like a magnet.

He lured it around, tricking it into stampeding and eating its own kind, which caused its stomach to begin bulging, because Hollow were not used to consuming that much solid food. It moved slower as a result, allowing Upsilon to put more space between them, but he soon saw that the big Hollow wasn’t eating the others anymore, rather becoming more aggressive and swatting at them as it passed. Hunger sated, the natural response of the Hollow would be to claim a new territory and kill anything that dared cross its path.

With a fervent roar and a handful of Hollow corpses arising immediately after, Upsilon’s assumptions were confirmed. He’d managed to cut the Hollow numbers down dramatically, but now there remained one big baddie that seemed to be claiming this whole area as its own.

Upsilon couldn’t distract it anymore with ichor, and getting too close at this point would be a death sentence. But when he saw a couple of centaurs go down in its raging path, Upsilon, too, got a little territorial and thought of nothing else as he charged forward.

He tackled the long, thin back leg of the Hollow, pulling its balance right out from under it as it toppled to the ground on its side, throwing those spear-like legs into the air dangerously and angrily. Upsilon got out of the way before he became as shredded as his cloak now appeared to be, and the two centaurs nearby took advantage of the opening.

They took their own spears with sharpened rocks for tips, and rammed them each into an eye socket of the Hollow’s mask-like face. It screeched, kicking wildly, and the centaurs had to retreat lest they be skewered.

Blind, the big Hollow got to its feet and snarled into the air in search for the sweet scent of golden ichor so it could avenge itself. The closest source, of course, was Upsilon, and they were back where they’d originally started, except this time, the Hollow chased blindly.

Upsilon bolted, and the creature caught wind and followed, using sound and smell to track him but not as easily as before. Nonetheless, it skittered across the ground at an alarming rate, slamming into trees and stumbling over rocks and corpses. Anger was a very efficient incentiviser.

If Upsilon hadn’t been fearing for his life, he may have found the tiny spears bouncing around sporadically on the Hollows face funny, like that time Oreus had held a Wet Tongue to each eye to make a joke and then accidentally let them stick to his eyelids. He’d had to wait until they moved to a less sensitive area before peeling them off.

However, Upsilon did embrace some concern for his immediate future, and so did not take the time to stop and point at the Hollow while laughing himself into the dirt like he’d done with Oreus.

He’d now reached the edge of the lake unintentionally, briefly wondering if Hollows could swim or needed air since they lived in the Null. His immediate answer to both questions was ‘let’s find out’, considering he had no choice but to drop to the ground as the Hollow dived over him and then straight into the water, snagging his leather cloak right off him before sinking like a brick.

Upsilon perched himself up on his good elbow, feeling vulnerable without something to cover his chest, but staring at the ripples in the water triumphantly. Then he found himself without the energy to stand and noticed how low his ichor supply had become. He had to start keeping better tabs on that, or it would eventually be the end of him.

He sighed, feeling sleepy, and gave himself a brief, well-earned moment of respite from the long battle, hoping that everything went well back at the village, at least. He’d run quite far into the field and then a long way around the lake, just trying to keep the big Hollow distracted. When he skimmed over the field, he saw only a couple dozen Hollow being quickly finished off by the remaining centaurs.

He supposed his plan had worked, if he could even call it a plan. At least it had tilted the battle more in the centaurs’ favor. Hollow are stupid.

Of course, he thought this far too soon, because the big Hollow who should have been at the bottom of the lake currently clawed its way desperately over the edge of the water back onto dry land. And, oh, it was mad. The only noise it made, a single low, bassy growl that slipped through those oily, needle teeth with menace, felt more threatening than anything Upsilon had heard from it yet.

And he, at that moment, felt his systems shutting down due to an ichor shortage.

His good elbow collapsed under his fatigue and he laid back against the ground as he heard the creature grow ever closer.  Within Upsilon’s staticy vision, the Hollow’s ebony form came into view, hovering above him. He felt drops of ichor hit his shell and briefly thought about his name going down in history as the only module to die before their inauguration. How embarrassing.

Through his dizziness, he noticed something in the corner of his eye, but couldn’t acknowledge the auburn fur and glimmering, golden staff in the edge of his vision. All he could focus on was the acid currently eating through his chest.

  
  


Eye lights flickered on with haste as Upsilon’s hand shot to his chest instinctively. He couldn’t feel the cavernous hole that should have been there, but neither could he feel the hard metal of his shell. After a moment of groping around the area, he verified it was covered up by a sash of leaves and leather by raising his head. They seemed recently rinsed and bound securely to prevent any debris from entering, which meant Calais must have bandaged him.

Upsilon also found the same bandaging around his lower torso, what would have been his ‘stomach’ area. The padding was thicker on the left side and Upsilon tried to replay the events of the battle in his mind, trying to figure out what would have damaged him and when. Whatever tore a hole through his shell most likely would have also torn some important tubes that transport ichor to his engine.

So that’s why his supply depleted so suddenly. Even if he had noticed the damage there, he had already been covered in ichor when it happened and wouldn’t have known he was losing any of his own without paying attention to his systems. The irony. And the lesson: pay attention to his damn systems. Stop ignoring them.

So, how had he woken with an engine that wasn’t receiving ichor? The centaurs didn’t have the tools required to repair him. That essential network of pressurized tubes and wires that made up his guts could not be repaired with leather and leaves. And he couldn’t rightly open his chest cavity to see, so long as the bandages were there, and he thought it better to keep those on for now.

He’d have to ask Calais later. For now, he wanted to start a habit of assessing his condition frequently.

Upsilon attempted to sit up, meeting some resistance from his shell but successfully forcing himself into an upright position. His left arm especially felt both unresponsive and useless, and glimpsing over what he could see, his upper body was peppered with holes. He had no idea how to fix those.

He wished he could fix his arm, more than anything, but he wasn’t too familiar with his own anatomy, yet. Using his good arm, he reached up and pressed down with two fingers at the upper joint of the broken one, causing a section to pop open so he could peek inside. Some wires were frayed where they got pulled loose, but those could be easily replaced. What bothered him was the ball and socket that looked cracked,making it unresponsive to the little sensor lighting up when Upsilon tried to move any part of that arm.

He could probably figure out a solution had he the right tools, but that definitely would not happen until he left _Neró_.

Then there was the small problem of his voice. He attempted to call out for someone and made an error-like, high-pitch noise instead. He quickly closed his mouth, glad no one had heard.

His vocal chords felt fine, and when he closed his eyes and focused, his thoughts felt coherent. It had to be his audio relays; auditory information from his processors were being stopped somewhere; maybe another loose wire, it was hard to tell. His next mission, he told himself, would be to study every inch of his own body so he better understood machines and how to take care of himself.

 _“You’re awake.”_ Upsilon opened his eyes, greeted by a familiar face. However, Oreus wasn’t smiling this time. _“How are you feeling?”_

For a moment, he almost forgot he couldn’t speak and then made a motion with his hand. It took him a moment, but Oreus understood and retrieved a blank journal from Calais’ shelves. With it, Upsilon was able to communicate with his friend.

=   _Voice isn’t working, can’t fix here. Same with arm. You?_ =

Oreus took a moment to look over the page, looking more downcast than Upsilon thought possible for someone as jubilant as he usually was. The centaur returned the book and spoke quietly.

_“Endeis is gone. Hippe found her earlier, unattended. Without constant care, her wounds overwhelmed her.”_

Wide-eyed, Upsilon scribbled, =   _Pallas??_ =

 _“Hippe found him outside. Picking flowers.”_ he growled, voice husky and eyes dark. Upsilon frowned and hated seeing his friend like this.

 _“Calais says it will take many cycles to deal with all our dead and replenish our resources. We barely survived that battle. But…”_ For a moment, his expression became less dark and focused on Upsilon with sincerity. _“Without you, and your ideas, our plane would have blinked out of existence. The Ancient would have lost its home and perished in the desert sands. And though our toll was heavy, we survived because of you.”_

He paused and then smiled, rolling his eyes in exasperation. _“You should hear what the other centaurs are saying about you. Some are still calling you a bad omen, but have resorted to calling you a nobody for some reason. Then there are those who are thankful to you, and name you Sui Generis. There’s a lot of conflicting emotions in the village right now, but I think you’ve changed most of their minds about machines. Or about you, at least.”_

Upsilon listened, but he noted something down in his book as Oreus spoke. Even more than their new name for him being the same as the one the Ancient called him, he was interested with what the others were saying about him. When Oreus finished, Upsilon showed him his question.

=   _Did they call me ‘a nobody’ or ‘Nobody’?_ =

 _“What’s the difference?”_ Oreus asked, perplexed. He added as an afterthought, _“Is Nobody a name or something? That would explain their weird phrasing.”_

Upsilon stared at Oreus and then dropped his gaze to his journal. It felt like ages since he’d read _The Story of Nobody_ and wished he could be more like them.

Wish granted, he supposed, though it wasn’t quite what he had meant. After Calais had claimed ignorance on the subject, he had just assumed no other centaur would know, plus at the time, he hadn’t spoken their language.

 _“Attempting connection, hello.”_ Oreus waved a hand in his face and Upsilon blinked up at him. Oreus looked back with a sad smile. _“You’re leaving soon. I suppose you’re going to say your goodbyes to everyone… er, write them, but… we wanted to give you something before you ran off and became a total badass.”_

‘Badass’ was not in Upsilon’s old tongue vocabulary, so it wouldn’t be until much later that he would learn what it meant. The sentiment, however, laid out clearly. Suddenly, the young foals Upsilon considered his closest friends were entering the hut and surrounding the bed of leaves he sat on.

Standing to Oreus’ left side were Elatus and Latreus, while Hippe came to sit next to Upsilon… the only one missing was Endeis. They all looked a little sad. Latreus had one of his four arms in a sling and Hippe had reddened eyes, tear stains tracked through the dirt in her thin fur, but that seemed to be the worst of their injuries.

Everyone would be recovering from battle for a while, and the foals, especially, knew things could have been much worse, thanks to Oreus and Upsilon. Because of them, the others had been able to help the wounded so effectively, and turn out mostly unscathed from the battle themselves. Even still, the younger foals felt the most for their fallen friend and that was still pain to be dealt with.

 _“We made you something.”_ Hippe said with a tiny smile, always the soft spoken one. Latreus and Elatus shifted, and Upsilon noticed they were standing unusually close, hiding something behind their backs. _“We had to ask Calais for help, because we don’t know much about your side of the world or what you’ll be doing once you leave. All we knew is that it was important.”_

 _“And then he told us how incredible you were going to be,”_ Oreus said with a widening grin on his face. Upsilon smiled sheepishly. “ _We didn’t believe it at first, but after the battle… watching you take on that big Hollow all by yourself, and the thing you did with the ichor, and all the centaurs you helped save; it was so… terrible!”_

Confused for a moment by Oreus’ conflicting word choice and smile, Upsilon stared at his friend until he remembered the word for ‘terrible’ could have also been interpreted as ‘awesome’. Oreus’ words made more sense when he thought of it that way.

Damn homonyms. They were confusing, even to machines.

“ _All this time, I thought you would need me to protect you,”_ he continued, _“But it was the other way around. I’m more determined than ever to fight beside you now. And-”_

Upsilon punched the air with his open book, making Oreus flinch.

 _= You’re embarrassing me.=_ It said, and the others giggled.

 _“We all know how much you love to read,”_ Elatus cut in, _“and we wanted to make sure you had something to keep your books in while you were traveling.”_

_“We got the idea after you told us you lost your other bag.”_

_“Actually, Endeis had the idea.”_ Latreus said, grimacing. _“We’d been trying to think of something to do for you, but it was her who came up with it.”_ And with that, Elatus and Latreus separated to reveal a beautiful new leather satchel, presenting it to Upsilon with wide grins.

Rectangular in shape and sturdy, the bag had plenty of space inside with separated compartments for his ichor canisters so the same mistake wouldn’t happen again. The light grey leather looked soft due to the thin fur covering it. The walls of the bag were thick for durability and protection, and a couple of deep pockets on the front sat cozy on either side of the strapped flap that kept the whole thing closed. An over-the-shoulder satchel, Upsilon’s favorite kind, but he noticed the strap could be reattached in a variety of ways for comfort.

The thing he noticed last was a little symbol on the front flap of the bag, shaped like a fancy ‘u’ and inked in golden ichor.

 _“It’s the symbol on your right shoulder, correct?”_ Hippe asked hopefully, _“It’s the letter of your name, ‘Upsilon’.”_

It is? Upsilon tried to look, but the symbol must have been too far back for him to see. He’d never known about the brand before. Mirrors weren’t exactly common in their world.

He looked down at the bag again and slowly began to shake his head from side-to-side in disbelief. Something like this would have taken so much effort, and he knew it was only thanks to all of his friends that it got done on such short notice.

 _“Remember those water dogs you found us catching?”_ Oreus reminded him, grinning, and Upsilon felt a brief moment of dread as he realized some of those furry little critters were now sitting in his arms, innocent little bystanders now on a journey much bigger than themselves. At least their deaths wouldn’t be in vain. This bag would be put to all kinds of use and Upsilon would never let it go.

He grabbed his book, and scribbled his many thanks into it, doodling a big smiley face that made Hippe giggle. Then he stood and they all put their heads together in a great big group hug, feelings of happiness and sadness all rolled into one on their faces.

Upsilon loved them. It wasn’t until this moment that he realized just how sad he was to leave. But machines couldn’t cry, so those intense emotions were left welling up inside him somewhere while he made an attempt to act fine.

He bid his dearest friends goodbye, reassuring them that he’d see them again sometime soon, after he became a full-fledged module. None of them knew how long soon would be, but they each had a feeling it wouldn’t be soon enough.

As they trotted out of the hut, Upsilon followed them just outside the doorway, using his good arm to hold the banner at bay. He had his bag against his hip, and Calais’ voice caught his attention.

“Fancy bag.” The centaur said with a knowing smile. He currently rested against the outside wall of his hut, on one of the makeshift leather beds they’d used for the wounded. His staff was no longer with him, but per usual, he had a notebook with him, writing something down.

Upsilon smiled at his _Dáskalos_ , taking steps to sit next to him. He plopped his new bag in his lap and began admiring it again. It really was pretty, but more importantly, perfect for what he’d be doing in the future.

“You seem quiet.” Calais said, “Are you that speechless?”

He retrieved his notebook from inside it, and showed Calais about his voice. He nodded his head in understanding.

“Ah, that will need to be fixed, too, then. Along with your other damages.” Calais lowered his own notebook and Upsilon caught that he was making a list of all the resources they needed to restock, sorted by importance. They were in dire need of ichor, thanks to Upsilon. Calais set the book aside and continued the conversation, a note of seriousness in his voice.

“Oreus told me what you did to help our kind, Upsilon. You took initiative, made decisions that a good Module would make, and saved many lives. I’m so proud of you, and more than honored to have had you as a student. I am no longer your _Dáskalos_ , yet it was such a joy to be while it lasted, and I look forward to watching you excel even farther.”

After a moment of silence, Calais turned his head to see Upsilon hiding his face. Concerned, Calais called his name gently.

“Upsilon?”

Another moment passed, and finally Upsilon uncovered his face and grabbed his notebook. As much as he wanted to tell people to stop complimenting him so much, it would have been rude to turn away Calais’ sentiments. So instead, he wrote, _Thank you, Calais,_ and then embraced him, because Calais felt like family by now. He had earned every ounce of Upsilon’s love and respect.

Over Calais’ shoulder, Upsilon noticed Pallas not too far away. He sat on the edges of the grass with his legs folded under him, albeit a little awkwardly with his back legs broken. He had a flower twirling between the fingers of two hands, while his other two arms wrapped around his hips in a nervous fashion.

Upsilon tore his gaze away and returned to his notebook, writing to Calais.

= _Do you know what’s wrong with Pallas yet? =_

“Only that it involves his mental health.” He replied sorrowfully, “Some of the surviving members of the herd said he was trampled during the initial attack that led them back so soon. That’s all I know, for now.  I’m not sure how long it will take him to heal, or if he even can.”

= _Gordian Root might be a good routine to put him on._ = Upsilon noted.

“Wise choice. It will be an entirely different uphill battle from here, for everyone, as we rebuild. But for Pallas, I think the only thing I can do is have him start from the beginning, with the younger foals and their lessons. His apprenticeship is obviously put on hold.”

Upsilon let Calais have that moment, because it looked like he was only just then registering the full extent of Pallas’ injuries. Maybe he’d known but hadn’t let it sink in yet, as Upsilon was also guilty of concerning other matters.

On a whim, he offered up a question that had been on his mind before.

= _You’ve never told me why you picked Pallas in the first place._ =

“Because it wasn’t my place to tell.” They both glanced over at Pallas as he struggled to replant the delicate flower, which would be impossible, as it had been permanently ripped from its roots. “But I suppose the opportunity for him to do so himself is gone.”

Calais exhaled heavily, the weight of his burdens apparent on his tired face and sagging shoulders.

“You know how Chloris consists mainly of a vast, desert landscape?” Upsilon gave a nod. “It wasn’t always like that. It once looked even more beautiful than our beloved _Neró_. But a machine came along and malfunctioned, releasing unforseen devastation upon the entire biome. A toxic mist spread among the breeze and snuffed out anything living. It killed everything and everyone unfortunate enough to be caught within the initial blast that released it. For those caught on the edges, they suffered mutations and an outbreak of infection, but the entire biome suffered and died, turning to dust. Some of those victims, though, had been our own.”

= _Rhaecus and the others._ =

“Right. It was an unfortunate symptom of a single machine’s existence that killed off most of our kind. We had only recently been able to rebuild what we have. Of course it was a freak accident, but mortals can become misled by fear when their lives are threatened. And the truth is, that in this world, sometimes it only takes one to make a difference.”

_= And Pallas? =_

“He killed Rhaecus to protect the younger ones. They had all been Rhae’s disciples. The younger centaurs have hated him ever since.”

Upsilon let that sink in for a moment, before carefully wording his next question.

_= He was infected. It had to be done, right? =_

“They were too young to understand. Oreus was the closest to Rhae, and even then, a natural born leader. See how devoted they are to Oreus? As their appointed leader, he has sway over their malleable minds. His mantra is passion and determination, even when that coincides with stubborn, and sometimes misled, beliefs.”

_= He needs someone to blame to make himself feel better. =_

“Exactly. And Pallas gave him that when he scattered Rhaecus. It’s been hard on them both, but Pallas took the brunt of the outcome. He hasn’t had the chance to grow up with friends.”

_= Is that why you took him in? =_

“Partially. As you’ve heard, it isn’t centaur tradition to have familial roles. Everyone in the herd is a brother, sister, and elder. However, you can’t control who you grow attached to.”

Upsilon had a bad feeling about where this was headed.

“Rhaecus was an _Ággelos_ , and Pallas his son.”

Pallas had killed his own father, an _Ággelos_ , at that age?

“As one of my dearest friends, I couldn’t let Rhae’s progeny waste his life if he chose to be more. The bilateral planes need more _Ággelos_. So I metaphorically adopted Pallas in hopes I could prevent him from falling off a path that would help him get through what he’d done.”

_= I think it’s a good idea to have him learn with the others now. They feel sympathy. =_

“Yes. Their lessons will begin soon, but with Pallas in his current state, I already know who will succeed in his stead.”

= _Oreus_. =

“He will make a fine leader when I’m gone.”

Upsilon didn’t want to think about that. He had a lot of questions he did want to ask, however, like if being an _Ággelos_ had anything to do with the staff he carried and banner on his door. He wanted to know what the symbols meant and how Calais was able to create the Bilateral Planes and invisible walls protecting them, unable to ignore the question of why the Hollow had been able to break through them. So many things whirled through his mind that he began to catalog the list of questions, including the insubstantial ones like Calais’ age or favorite color.

But he was stalling. His time was limited and there were still some things he needed to do before he left. His questions would have to wait for another time.

Instead, he took the chance in this moment of silence to write out some of his feelings in perfect old tongue, before he stood from the dirt and brushed himself off. He stepped before Calais’ sitting form and handed over the notebook for him to read.

 _= I can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done. I promise to return the favor and kindness you’ve shown me as my_ _Dáskalos_ _and an Ággelos to Neró by protecting you and your future apprentices to the best of my ability. =_

 _“Sentiment accepted,”_ Calais responded in kind once he finished. A proud smile beamed from him as he returned the book and added, “Module Upsilon.”

Upsilon flinched and then shook his head furiously. If he could blush, he would have.

 _= I haven’t been inaugurated yet. =_ He wrote.

“After what you’ve done here, Alpha would be insane not to accept you.” A roll of Upsilon’s eyes before Calais smiled again. “You’ve got this. Go, help the world. I’ll be here tending to our herd.”

As Upsilon gathered his things, he felt too many emotions that had no outlet, but he shoved the feelings down without knowing what else to do with them. He headed off as Calais tended to Pallas, and before he was out of range, he heard Calais speaking to the other. A glimpse back, and Upsilon saw Pallas raise the wilting flower to him and say, _“Endeis”._

 _“Yes,”_ Calais cooed sadly, _“Endeis was beautiful.”_

Upsilon turned away, mourning the losses the centaurs had suffered, and made his way down to the water’s edge. He had one final visit to make before his time in _Neró_ came to an end, and he didn’t have terribly long to do it.

Before long, Upsilon stood at the feet of the Ancient, looking up at them with a crooked smile.

 _Ancient looks tired,_ he said through their connection, much easier than relaying every thought through writing. The Lender of Light’s reptilian eyes blinked away their sluggishness and held the hint of a smile at him.

_Waiting for Sui Generis._

_I feel honored,_ he replied, and meant it. The Ancient was putting off sleep to say farewell to him. What more could be so humbling?

Without needing to ask, the Lender lowered their head so Upsilon could climb the boney nubs lining their jaw. He had a little trouble with one arm, but he pushed himself on.

Once atop their head, he found his spot at the log and sat, leaning against the dry bark and propping his foot against the rock pile in front of him. He rested his good arm against his bag and allowed himself that moment to relax; to feel the thrum of the Ancient pulse through him like a big, loving heartbeat.

 _Thank you. For showing me light,_ he said to them.

_Light always. Much love._

He was so incredibly thankful, not just to the Ancient, but everyone he’d come to know in _Neró_. He could hardly express it in words, but with the connection he had with the Ancient, he didn’t need to.

 _So much love_ , the Lender chimed and Upsilon giggled, feeling a little embarrassed.

They spoke of the battle and what would happen from there, how the Ancient would help the centaurs rebuild their population and replenish their resources. Lender approved of Upsilon’s tactics, calling him clever and courageous. He accidentally asked her to stop through his emotions and she responded by only embarrassing him with more good things. They shared a laugh.

Upsilon asked if any of the Hollow had harmed her, and she spoke highly of Calais and his protection. That’s when Upsilon realized he started thinking of the Ancient as a she, and wondered if that was her doing, slipping subliminal messages in under her emotions, unintentionally or otherwise. He wondered if he did the same in reverse, and what things she had learned about him.

Eventually, they grew quiet, and the Ancient’s weariness couldn’t have been more apparent. She had begun dozing off during the last few moments of their chatting. Upsilon thought that was sweet, and regretted waking her from the light slumber.

 _Ancient sleep now._ He encouraged, _Sui Generis go._

 _Wait,_ she beckoned, sleepy eyes opening as her focus returned _._

He suddenly heard a quiet snapping and crackling swell around him. Something pressed against his leg and when Upsilon shifted to look, he noticed some of the Ancient’s scales were bristling.

_What are you doing?_

_A gift._ She said soothingly, and Upsilon felt his metaphorical heart sink. She wanted him to tear out one of her beautiful scales? _Light always. Speak often._

No way he understood that correctly. According to her, they’d be able to speak more often with one of her scales. He felt so incredibly unworthy.

The scales themselves were as big as Upsilon’s head, tear-shaped and glistening with a dark marbled mess of greens and blues. He gripped one awkwardly with his good hand and positioned himself so he could yank it loose with a couple of tugs. He sat it in his lap and admired the single streak of golden ichor coursing through the center of this one, with amber flakes speckled throughout. His fingers ran along the smooth, glass-like surface, noting how the underside was more matted and rough.

He asked the Ancient to clarify one more time what the gift did.

The scale would in fact allow him to speak with the Lender at will, no matter the distance or plane, as long as he had it near him. Considering how distant the Ancients kept themselves from other entities, this was both a surprise and an honor.

 _Light’s kindness too much. So much love._ Upsilon gushed endless waves of love towards her, wrapping his usable arm around the scale to hold it tightly against him. It’d be the closest thing to embracing the Ancient he was going to get. He felt his love returned like a gentle wave, and Lender let out a deep sound that could have possibly been an attempt at laughing.

 _Shepherd here._ The Ancient declared, and Upsilon realized she referred to Phi. His time to leave had arrived too soon, and he suddenly felt overcome with anxiety for his future. He frowned, full of complicated emotions.

 _Spread light._ Her final thoughts pushed to him, and he repeated it back to her respectfully.

He bid the Lender of Light sad farewells and many thanks before slipping the scale into his bag and booking it back to the village.

As he got back there, he noticed it had grown busier. There were a lot of centaurs out and about, attempting to get everything sorted and repaired again. Upsilon tried to make himself as invisible as possible walking through them, but felt obliged to wave and smile shyly when some locked eyes. Some of them surprisingly smiled back at him, but then he heard them whispering in their tongue.

_“There he goes.”_

_“It’s time, he’s finally leaving.”_

_“What a relief.”_

Upsilon’s smile faded and he closed his eyes, unsure of whether he should feel hurt or angry. He decided he just felt sad and pushed on, thinking it may not be so bad it was time to leave, after all.

_“With someone like him on the outside, we won’t have to worry about Hollows anymore.”_

_“Let him know he’s welcome here.”_

Upsilon stumbled over a passing centaur’s back leg, and even heard them apologize after they glanced back and saw him. He nodded at them as they continued on before listening a little more to the others, gripping the strap of his bag as his walk slowed to a snail’s pace.

_“He saved me from that big Hollow. I want to thank him.”_

_“It’s a shame he doesn’t speak our language.”_

_“We can still give him a proper send off.”_

_“It’s the least we can do.”_

Upsilon felt like his chest would explode. He had returned to walking slow, but now he picked up pace again as he ran for the archway that would allow him to leave _Neró_. He was so grateful for their kind words, but the idea of being the center of attention for all these centaurs made him uncomfortable.

He passed by the last few huts before the field opened up before him, and there sat the big stone archway, covered in moss, slightly tilted and half buried in the ground just as it had been when he arrived through it. He slowed what he realized was a frantic jog down to a walk as he saw Calais and Phi speaking before the glowing entryway. As he grew closer, he overheard the end of their conversation.

“Make him a Module, Phi. He will become a catalyst for great things.”

“That is our intention.” The elder module said, part of a smile actually reaching his lips. It felt like so long since Upsilon had seen Phi, and he supposed it had been. Twenty cycles will become nothing, eventually, when he’d been alive for thousands of cycles, but it was currently all he knew of his current life.

As he approached his two ex-teachers, they turned to look at him, but both of their faces were suddenly pulled upward, beyond his shoulders. Phi became a little wide-eyed, and Calais smiled strangely.

Confused, Upsilon turned slowly, and then promptly stumbled back a step.

Almost all of what remained of the village’s centaurs were gathered at the edge of the grass, ready to watch Upsilon leave. Some of them were being supported by others due to fractured bones or other injuries from the battle, and many of them had scars from the toxic ichor they’d been sprayed with. But they all stood tall, and his friends, Oreus and the others, were all standing front and center.

Oreus had an infectious smile, that Upsilon couldn’t help but return ever so slightly. And then Oreus raised two of his fists to his chest and slammed his front hoof into the dirt twice, paused, and then did it again. The other young foals joined in, quickly followed by the rest of the village, and in no time, a thunderous echo rang across the vast field, bouncing off the mountainous Ancient in the background.

 _“_ _Charmolýpi!”_ _Boom, boom..._

They chanted as one in the old tongue, and Upsilon recognized it as a word that meant ‘sweet sorrows’. They were happy to recognize him as one of their own, but sad to see him go, knowing it was necessary and wishing him the very best. One word told him so much, and made him realize he wasn’t the only one that felt changed.

 _“_ _Charmolýpi!”_ _Boom, boom..._

And the Lender of Light joined in by throwing her head back and billowing out a breathy wail just as she had done when he had first arrived here, he realized, and immediately wondered if she’d known this would happen all along.

 _“_ _Charmolýpi!”_ _Boom, boom..._

Upsilon felt a hand on his shoulder, and Calais smiled down at him. He lowered his face to the side of Upsilon’s so he could hear him.

 

 _“Be free unto the world, but know you may always return here. And when you find yourself lost or unable to return, come to us in your memories. We will always be here, as the light guiding you home. Thus declares the Centaurian Rite._ ”

 

The centaurs have accepted him as one of their own. Great. When was he going to start glowing?

 _“_ _Charmolýpi!”_ _Boom, boom..._


	9. Ch. 5 | A Cold Place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With final inspection so close now, Upsilon finds himself as jittery as a jackhammer, while Phi is bad at consoling the weary, and two twin Modules, Gamma and Sigma, make for amusing dialogue with their polar opposite personalities.

After receiving an honorable send-off from home - and yes, Upsilon felt undeniably attached to  _ Neró _ at this point - he and Phi took their leave and once again found themselves treading across the vast, burgundy desert of Chloris.

Well, Phi kind of drifted. His long flowing cloak didn’t reveal he took actual steps, and his fluid movement suggested he didn’t have feet or had somehow mastered the ability to hover. Whatever the case, Upsilon was treading across the desert, already missing home and burdened with mixed feelings about his future.

For twenty cycles, Upsilon had been looking forward to his final inspection, and fulfilling the sole purpose for his making. He’d soon see if he’d passed the initial requirements for becoming a Module, a protector of the biomes and mortals who live within them. It was a lifelong duty, one taken with pride and responsibility.

Machines had no average lifespan, per se, because as long as they were maintenanced periodically, they could potentially live forever. That said, twenty cycles, admittedly, was not a long time, but to Upsilon, it summed up his entire life. So, as he half-listened to Phi periodically ramble confusingly about things he should have probably been paying attention to, Upsilon took instead to wondering how long the oldest Module has been alive for.

Machines may not age, but like the centaurs, there were elders among the Modules and they were some of the most powerful beings known throughout the world. In fact, Phi was one of them. Though Upsilon knew very little about his elders, the very first Module had proven himself in a league all his own, earning him endless names and titles out of respect.

Alpha; also known as The One,  _ Patéras _ , The Unmovable Machine, and countless other honorifics and epithets given to him by the mortals. He had not only been the first machine, but the first being to have ever existed, and his power was unrivaled. Legends had it, he could erase anyone in the blink of an eye, or a nod of his head. Long ago, an Ancient had become infected under a collapsing bilateral plain, and Alpha had destroyed it with one hand. It was as equally terrifying to think about as it was amazing.

Upsilon, like all the other Modules, came out of Alpha’s head, built by his hands, and then were sent off to prove themselves before returning, just as Upsilon was doing now.

Anxiety, he came to realize, is a persistent zealot. Upsilon thought he had overcome his fears, become more confident in himself and his decisions, and yet now he shook terribly in the face of what was to come. He worried yet another piece of him might jar loose if he continued to rattle as he was. 

“You courageously face a hoard of Hollow and stand victorious.” Phi said at one point, giving him a curious look. “Yet, you hear Alpha’s name and it makes you tremble like a half-drowned kitten.”

_ This is different. _ Upsilon said through their mental link. They’d been forced to open internal comms due to Upsilon’s inability to speak aloud.

“Is it? If it makes you feel better, imagine Alpha as a Hollow.”

That did the opposite of make him feel better, and Upsilon decided Phi was not good at consoling the weary. He gave the other a thin smile and readjusted the shoulder strap of his satchel in a fidgety manner.

Inside the grey leather bag were parting gifts; some books from Calais that Upsilon had somehow not read yet and an assortment of medicinal plants for him to begin growing once he settled into a new place. He also had the rather large scale given to him by the Ancient, as well. It comforted him when he held it, as though he were right there with the Lender again, sharing their love for language and beauty.

That’s why he pulled it out now, hugging it to his injured chest with one arm while they walked. Even in the lack of light, it still somehow made a little of its own. Of course, he knew the Ancient was sleeping and wouldn’t respond even if he did call out to her, but he felt better almost immediately with its cool, glassy surface against him. Phi took notice.

“What is this?” He asked, eying the dimly glowing scale from under his wide brimmed hat. 

_ It’s a gift from the Lender of Light; a scale of her hide _ . Upsilon responded mentally, and Phi, visibly taken aback, stilled and turned to him.

“Pardon? You mean to say you’ve spoken to an Ancient?” With a face of genuine shock, his eyes became intense as they begged an answer from Upsilon. “When was this? What did he say? Did he teach you anything?” His words were a little hasty, rushing to get to the point. Upsilon hadn’t seen Phi like this in the little time he’d known him, and responded hesitantly.

_ She _ , he said, putting emphasis on the sentiment, _ likes sleeping in the lake.  _ A moment passed and he added with a small shrug of his shoulders,  _ And fish. She likes the baby ones because they eat all the algae off her shell. _

Phi, visibly confused, hadn’t been expecting that as an answer, and Upsilon realized that. He had no idea what the other machine wanted from him.

_ She also likes poetry _ ?

“The Ancient… spoke of no future; no prophecy?”

_ Besides the Hollow attack, no. _

Phi fell silent a moment, before he turned and continued their journey. Upsilon took that as a sign to follow as Phi muttered something.

“That’s a shame. The Ancients are the only surviving Oracles.”

_ I suppose no news is good news? _ Upsilon said, and Phi closed his eyes as they walked.

“If only that were the case.”

They were both silent after that.

Eventually, they came across this massive metal structure that arced high above their heads. The mechanized arch hummed upon approach, and the geometric designs revealed lights, cyan-colored and pulsing in tandem with one another. On the lower right leg of the arch sat a similarly-styled podium with a screen; a computer accessible only by Modules and specific machines.

The empty, ebony Null was a stark contrast around the bright, vibrant colors begging to push through the entrance of the doorway. Inside the arch was a shimmering image of the biome that lied beyond, creating an otherworldly seam in the sand that indicated where one began and the other ended. Dense foliage cozily hugged the path that existed on either side of the portal, but the one made of packed sand here became one of dark dirt on the other.

A datagate, Upsilon thought, the portals that linked the biomes of the world together. They were necessary, due to the expansive Null between each biome. It reminded him of the doorway Phi had opened to the bilateral plane.

If Phi hadn’t been a Module, they would have had to travel across three more biomes and take just as many datagates to get to Nessa. However, Phi was a Module and hence could tap the face of that pedestal looking computer a few times to considerably shorten their trip. Instead of traveling many biomes, they only had to cross one.

“As a Module,” Phi said as he punched some symbols into the computer, “You will be able to set temporary destinations for specific entities you are traveling with, using their Character ID’s. This prevents mortals, and more importantly viruses, from being able to travel wherever they please in an instant. If entities use a datagate to escape pursuit, we can follow them.”

It was the first time Phi had spoken so plainly to Upsilon. Usually Phi’s lessons were cryptic and simply unfun to listen to, but this would be useful information for him. Upsilon nodded encouragingly.

He watched as the image in the door melted from a dense jungle environment to a snowy white one, where the thick forests greeted them in the distance. It was a stark contrast to the hot and dark sand he stood on now.

As he passed through the doorway, Upsilon felt his body tingle, like a small electrical charge crawled across his shell and through his innards. It stopped as soon as he stepped completely through, and when he turned around, he found a different sight. A different biome than the sandy one they came from, one instead full of voluptuous white flowers and bodies of crystal blue water. He assumed it was Proteus, and instantly fell in love with the glimpse of it that he could see.

Everything had a shimmer to it. The flowers were covered in dew and glistening around the edges of the nearby sparkling water, and the earthy rock walls were covered in tiny specks of light that glimmered differently depending on how you faced them.

“Upsilon.” Phi called quietly, crunching his way down the snowy path. It seemed he had feet after all, his cloak simply covered up the footprints as it trailed behind.

Upsilon fought the urge to go through the datagate one more time, and instead turned around to catch up to the other. He admired the surrounding forests to pass the time, because making conversation with Phi usually lead to a less than pleasing experience.

He admired the simple beauty of Nessa, thinking it a little foreboding in the darker areas, but Upsilon had to remind himself that darkness was a constant fact of their world. Supposedly, Nessa had not always been covered in thick blankets of snow, though, but its absence was so long ago, that everyone simply correlated it as a dark, snowy place, now.

Biomes rarely changed, environment wise, but Nessa had. Yet, it had always been a little different from the other biomes, being a home to where stranger things happened. It was often the source of many outlandish rumors and myths that spread around the world, that many entities became cautious to believe anymore.

On the other hand, Nessa seemed pretty normal to Upsilon. It was not one giant island of land, but two, with countless smaller islands floating in the Null around them. These smaller pieces of earth shifted around frequently, due to gravity and the local Ancient, also known as the Pusher of Land.

Upsilon felt disappointed that the Ancient seemed absent. Like some of the others, the Pusher of Land reached a size far too big for it to exist within the biome. It mysteriously roamed around in the pitch black Null, somehow always returning to its home here in Nessa to help guard it. From what exactly, Upsilon could only make educated guesses, but far be it for him to question the old, and supposedly wise, oracles.

It took Upsilon and Phi a while to traverse the white forests, even with a trail of flag markers plainly laid out before them. This section of land was rather big and empty, save for the periodic homes speckled throughout the thickly gathered, slate-blue trees. 

Upsilon and Phi were almost to the second biggest island, where the biome’s only town sat snuggly on the precipice that connected the other island via a rather long and wide, taut bridge. Built out of rope and local wood, it strung between the two massive slabs of land. Upsilon didn’t believe that was the only thing holding the two islands together, and his suspicions were confirmed as they crossed the bridge and he took a look down over the side.

Chains and cables, monumental in size, clawed at the craggy cliff edges underneath the biome, flirting with the nothingness of the Null. They seemed like normal cables and chains, just massive in size, but the longer Upsilon watched, the more he noticed what made them different. Streaks of cyan appeared randomly in the metal, blipping into existence as quickly as they disappeared.

Cyan was considered a safe color, often associated with machines and, especially, the Modules. That meant the restraints that tethered Nessa together were most likely mechanized, possibly for transference of information.

After a moment, Upsilon’s thoughts became derailed and he was glad machines didn’t suffer from vertigo. He couldn’t see many mortals making this trip unless they had to, with the Null threatening to swallow them whole if they were to fall. At least the bridge seemed pretty sturdy.

As they reached the other side, a large, wooden sign greeted them, surrounded by some bushes full of berries and mediocre light from sacks of golden ichor hanging from nearby posts. Small glowing insects zipped around from bush to bush, providing a small amount of light as well, surprising for their size.

_ Κρύομέρος _ it read, which means they most likely spoke the Old Tongue here. In the barest sense of the name, it meant ‘cold place’. How fitting, Upsilon thought, as his internal temperatures continued to adjust in the face of the sheer chill.

One of those small glowing insects landed on Upsilon’s hand as he raised it in front of him. It had a long, slender body with abstract, blocky patterns and a belly full of what looked like golden ichor. Its four transparent wings flickered, adjusting comfortably as it’s thin legs searched for footing. It had dead eyes that seemed to look off in the distance before shooting off to wherever it headed.

“That is a Flichor.” Phi said, glancing over his shoulder. “They sting, but not us, obviously.”

_ Do they live off golden ichor, too? Like the centaurs? _ Upsilon fell in step with Phi again.

"Debatable. They have a natural instinct to sting sick entities, injecting them with golden ichor to help cure ailments. Thus, they collect ichor and pollinate other plants and entities.” 

What commendable little insects. Upsilon decided he liked them.

The town was small, but what it lacked in size it made up for in a sort of quaintness. In such a cold and dark place, it somehow made itself warm and welcoming. The only exits were to the north and south, where they had entered. Homes and shops nestled together around a wide center, where a rather large, strange looking tree sat. A single trunk grew from the snow covered ground where the top of the tree sprouted a giant, semi-transparent sack of ichor. Its weight caused the tree to bend in the shape of an ‘n’ and gave the whole area a warm, golden glow. It had branches, where smaller bulbs filled with ichor grew, and Upsilon noticed the Flichor insects frequenting the strange tree, as though they were drawn to it.

The buildings surrounding the town center were built from local wood, giving them that same gray-blue hue the forests had, and half a dozen entities - mostly mortals, Upsilon noticed - bustled between the homes and businesses at any given time. The entities Upsilon saw, seemed to be mainly furred species, no doubt to protect against the chill.

As they passed by the giant tree, Upsilon felt a similar out-of-touch feeling as when he first entered the centaur village, as though his presence in this new place was awkward and clumsy. That may have been because some of the passing mortals would notice them and stare, but Upsilon was unsure of whether it was because of him or Phi, who supposedly didn’t come here often, but whose reputation preceded him.

Upsilon calmed his fraying wires down and followed Phi past the shops and small trading outposts. He saw signs designating the names of some businesses;  _ Raster’s, Basil’s Wares,  _ and _ Aouuu _ , which literally translated to the sound of a howling wolf. They all seemed to vary in size and purpose.

Upsilon heard muted laughter coming from his right and glanced through the big window that read  _ RASTER’S _ in floral lettering. It seemed like a popular lounge or eatery, possibly the only one here, and there were entities inside celebrating something. It looked awfully cozy and warm inside with all those ichor sacks for light and the fireplace on the far wall.

“It is not far, now.” Said Phi, politely reminding Upsilon that the elder Module had a schedule to keep. He caught up with Phi once again, wishing this inspection over so he could stop feeling anxious every time he thought about it.

Phi ended up leading him all the way through town and out the northern entrance, into the other side of the surrounding dense forest. They got back on the snow-packed path and followed it all the way to a frozen river, where they crossed the arcing bridge. It was at this point, Upsilon began hearing a strange  _ thunk  _ noise periodically. He pinpointed the noises up ahead and looked at Phi wearily, but the other seemed to either not notice the sound or simply ignored his concern. It was hard to tell with Phi.

They eventually stepped off the clear trail and into the trees, before a new, less traveled path revealed itself, and the sound was much more noticable now, occasionally accompanied by other noises Upsilon could not discern. A brief pause in the ruckus allowed Upsilon to hear someone bark, ‘again’ before the treeline they stepped through broke into a wide clearing.

A rounded metal building sat nearby, a door flush with the walls that held countless antenna and generator-looking machines. Otherwise, the area was mostly empty for its large size. Near the metal building, at a simple wooden table and chair, sat the very module that would decide Upsilon’s fate and caused his mind to whir with irrational fear.

Alpha wore the very essential armor of all modules: customized clothing fabricated from a material of his very own invention, designed specifically to protect and uniquely enhance the wearer’s abilities. Alpha’s armor specifically consisted of a heavy looking jacket where only the right arm had a long sleeve, and the other cut off like a vest, revealing a dark t-shirt underneath. This was no doubt to allow him ease of access to his Nucomm, the highly essential computer directly connected to his left forearm, small and lightweight with a flexible, but durable screen. Other than that, he wore what seemed like simple slacks and combat boots.

If he was lucky, Upsilon, too, would be given his own armor and Nucomm, but that was, surprisingly, the last thing on his mind. Foremost in his thoughts were the legends he’d read of Alpha, and wondering if he’d literally be blown away by the elder even looking in his direction.

The thing about Alpha that caught Upsilon’s attention then was the strange horns protruding from his forehead. Arcing into three points where the center was the longest, it reminded him of a trident, and thought it similar to-

_ FFFFWHIP. _

Upsilon startled, flinching as someone appeared before him. He was already feeling jumpy, so it didn’t take much to startle him. A quick inspection allowed him to calm down a little, as the one in front of him was another Module.

Their back to him, he didn’t see much, but from the white synthetic hair that protruded from their scalp and the slender, tall frame, he recalled the image of Gamma. She wore nothing but her Skin, the thin clothing Modules wore under their armor, and in her hand, she held an arrow that would have spiraled right through Upsilon’s engine had she not prevented it.

Bright, neon optics calmly turned on him, a mixture of plum and raspberry hues, and Upsilon couldn’t help but stare as she gave him the tiniest of smiles. 

She glanced at Phi, gave him a curt nod which he returned, and then she looked away, towards the tree line. For a moment, Upsilon thought of how Phi could have stopped that arrow and hadn’t. Was it because he knew it would be taken care of? Or because he didn’t care? Upsilon had little doubt the elder Module wouldn’t have seen it coming in time to stop it, yet he hadn’t. Upsilon tried not to jump to assumptions, deciding to simply be thankful the arrow had been stopped.

It was now, as Gamma called out to someone, that Upsilon noticed the arsenal of arrows protruding from nearby trees. This seemed like some kind of practice grounds.

“Your reflexes precede your comprehension, Siggy. It’s not practice if you erase someone in the process.”

Another tall and slender form slumped heavily from a tree on the other side of the clearing, where the Sigma Module revealed himself. His white hair was cropped short and messy, a little different compared to Gamma’s shoulder length style, which became shorter only in the back.

These were the Module twins, Gamma and Sigma. They looked almost identical, save for their clothes and hair. They were some of the youngest Modules, only surpassing Upsilon, and yet together, they were as powerful as any of the elders. It was little wonder why he found them here, with Alpha, apparently training.

Sigma had a long bow in his hands and a quiver strapped to his hip. He stepped closer and then leaned on the longbow with a somber look on his face, half hidden by a hand that trailed up through his hair.

“Sorry. I was listening so intently for Gamz, I didn’t hear two sets of footsteps. I’m lucky to hear any kind of noise from a ghost.” he said, jerking his head in Gamma’s direction.

“Don’t make excuses for your obliviousness.” Gamma retorted with a smile, handing over the dull practice arrow. Sigma glared with a half-grin of his own, returning the whittled stick to his quiver.

It was then that Alpha tore his attention away from whatever business the papers and books on the table had been occupying him with. Upsilon thought it impossible Alpha hadn’t known of their presence a mile or two ago. Whatever had been preoccupying him must have been important.

Alpha approached the four modules, and from his stature and facial expression, Upsilon immediately thought him the serious type, straightforward and efficient.

“I believe this was a successful training. You both know what you need to work on, so I’ll leave it at that.”

“Yes, Alpha.” They said in unison, standing with squared shoulders together and slightly dipping their heads. Then Sigma elbowed Gamma lightly as he muttered.

“Your swordsmanship is rusty.” He attempted to hide a smile, but Gamma confidently revealed her own.

“You hold a bow like you’re choking a bird. Relax your grip and lower it an inch, then maybe you’ll hit something next time.” Sigma grimaced and mouthed an, ‘ouch’.

Though Upsilon knew very little about the other Modules, he did know Gamma to be highly efficient with a bow, whereas Sigma primarily used ancient Falcata blades. Gamma had given constructive criticism on a weapon she was profoundly proficient in, rather than an empty insult toward Sigma’s skill. Upsilon wondered where the sword Gamma had supposedly been using was, as he would have loved to see the beautifully etched Falcata blades.

“That’s enough for today.” Alpha said, tone light. “It’s time for our new Module to be assimilated.”

Upsilon felt a stutter in his engine’s rhythmic pulsing. Could that have been a definitive answer to his inauguration? It had to be, coming from Alpha himself. He didn’t seem like the sort to say anything flippantly. The head Module surely chose his words carefully when he spoke.

Alpha hadn’t made any real acknowledgement of Phi and Upsilon’s arrival until then. He greeted them with a simple nod of his head, Phi half-bowing in return and Upsilon resisting the urge to flinch as he did the same out of courtesy. Alpha waved the notion off.

“That’s not necessary, Phi is old fashioned.”

“Only when ‘old-fashioned’ is synonymous with ‘devotion’ and ‘respect’,  _ Anaxi mou _ .”

Yet another name for Alpha,  _ Anaxi mou  _ was used primarily by some of the Modules and translated to ‘my lord’. Its use, like all names and titles, depended on the situation and context at hand. There were a lot of politics, Upsilon would eventually come to realize, to every situation he’d find himself in.

Regardless, Alpha either didn’t need to show recognition of the name, or didn’t care to. He turned to Upsilon with an arched brow.

“You look like you’ve gone through the Null and back.” 

_ You could say that _ , Upsilon thought, unable to communicate with Alpha due to their lack of connection. Phi came to his rescue and explained.

“The Hollow numbers were much larger than anticipated.” His voice was cold and calculated, reporting the events Calais had informed him of. “Alongside a number of damages, his vocal relays have ceased responding. Highly inconvenient. I’m quite honestly surprised he survived in such a vulnerable state.”

“Much less save yet another bilateral plane from extinction.” Alpha and Phi were now both eying Upsilon with unreadable expressions, making him nervous. He shifted slightly where he stood, suddenly finding the dirt and snow beneath his feet extremely interesting. He glanced up periodically.

Upsilon noticed that Alpha was shorter than he’d imagined, but still stood quite taller than himself, and had to kneel to meet Upsilon face to face. He looked Upsilon in the eye and said quietly, his uplifting tone not quite matching his stoic face,

“No Module has ever made a name for themselves in their first twenty cycles. Word is spreading of ‘Sui Generis’, and his honorable deeds in  _ Neró _ , Chloris. They’re calling him the ‘Savior of Light’.”

News of his infamy made Upsilon a little wide-eyed, considering he had no idea how the events in Chloris had been spread throughout the biomes already. He was reluctant to accept this, partially because it was the centaurs who had been fighting the Hollow on the front lines, not him. It felt wrong to not only take credit, but have a title as prestigious as ‘Savior of Light’.  His head spun under the anxiety convulsing through him. That was quite a title to live up to.

He began to shake his head no, but Alpha had already stood again and begun speaking to Phi. His tone was once again all business.

“You have more to report.”

“Indeed. May we walk?“

“Of course,” Alpha said, standing aside and motioning for Phi to follow. He nodded his head at Upsilon and the two elders silently walked away. Upsilon assumed they were speaking privately, via internal comms, because he couldn’t hear them at all.

He turned, and suddenly found himself face to face with twin Modules. Gamma had her arms crossed, relaxed but poised gracefully as she eyed Upsilon with an impassive interest. Sigma, on the other hand, had this mischievous grin on his face as he lounged in an ungainly manner against the longbow erecting from the snow. He stared at Upsilon as if begging him to say or do anything, like a child waiting for a magic trick.

Awkwardly, Upsilon looked between the two, thinking how bipolar their two personalities were, and hoped that look Sigma gave him was one of intrigue and not bad intentions.

“So our new Module can’t speak?” He said, rolling his optics. “Damn. We had so many questions for you.”

“Until this point, we’ve been the youngest,” mused Gamma, “I was looking forward to hearing your story concerning  _ Neró _ and the centaurs.”

“Yeah, we’ve never met the centaurs. Or been to the bilateral planes.” Sigma shrugged, grimacing. “There are so few left. But, bilateral plane or no, we have our own Ancient to care for.”

If Upsilon remembered correctly, the twins were stationed in Eros, the jungle biome, whose datagates connected Proteus and Chloris. He didn’t know the name of their Ancient, but he knew he wanted to visit the lush and beautiful landscape when he was able. If nothing else, he could meet a new Ancient, and the thought excited him.

“So,” Sigma said, suddenly admiring the backside of his hand, before locking eyes with Upsilon again, “I guess since you can’t talk,  _ Silere _ ,” Sigma put emphasis on the nickname he’d chosen for Upsilon and grinned at the other’s frown. “You’ll just have to nod ‘yes’ or ‘no’, right?”

Upsilon, grimacing, wished the twins would just form a connection with him so he could speak openly. According to Phi, though, such connections weren’t just made with anyone. It was generally a personal, almost intimate, experience; an act that said, “I trust you’, because two connected Modules could feel the other’s thoughts and emotions. The only reason Phi and Upsilon’s had not been so was because of both the older Module’s experience, and abilities.

It made sense, Upsilon supposed. Privacy was a pleasure to Modules, not a right. He guessed they kept it where they could. Maybe in the future, he’ll feel the same.

Sigma interrupted his thoughts again.

“Any ideas where you want to be stationed yet,  _ Silere _ ?” Curse that name, Upsilon thought. It was in a different language, but sounded familiar. He was trying to figure out what it meant as Sigma continued. “How about Chloris? Or Nemesis? Mneme? Erebus?”

Upsilon hadn’t given his station the slightest thought, yet. He shook his head ‘no’ at all the biomes as Sigma listed them both. Then, in a brief moment, he was reminded of Proteus and the glimpse he got through the datagate. He wanted to be somewhere near the water, that much he knew. That crossed out all the biomes but Proteus and Erebus. Eros was off limits, since there were already two mods stationed there.

“He hasn’t had a chance to see the biomes yet.” Gamma glanced at her twin, “His probation kept him in  _ Neró _ .”

“We should show him around then.” The other said, suddenly becoming animated as he pulled the longbow from the ground. He raised his hands high in the air and swung the weapon around in a wide sweep. “I’ve got it!” He suddenly locked eyes with Gamma and narrowed them, voice low. “Let’s take him to the Vault.”

“We don’t have clearance.” Gamma said simply, showing no other reaction.

“Ah, right! Darn.” He said, seeming to think of other options. Then he grimaced and glanced at his twin. “Gamz, you’re no fun. Help me out, laugh at my jokes now and then.”

“I’d laugh if something was funny.”

“You… are so mean.”

Despite himself, Upsilon smiled at their antics. He had no idea what the Vault was, but it sounded like a place one would store treasure hoards. Before he could retrieve a blank book from his bag and inquire, Sigma turned to face him again.

“I wonder what your first thoughts were.”

“Siggy, that’s private.” Gamma’s second hint of emotion came in the form of gentle scorn.

“You’re just embarrassed your first thoughts made Alpha throw away his insect collection.”

“I wouldn’t say ‘embarrassed’.”

“Flow sin a somethin….” Sigma said, obviously struggling as he tapped a finger to his chin. “Flock in whosie whatsit.” Gamma clarified for him.

“Floccinaucinihilipilification.” Upsilon’s confused face made her elaborate. “It means to value things as worthless. It was my first thought, and it ruptured Alpha’s good judgement for a long time, until my extraction.”

Upsilon absorbed that, vaguely remembering Modules affecting Alpha’s personality until they were given bodies. An abrupt change in their eldest Module’s behavior was the first sign that a new Module was brewing inside his head. Upsilon wondered how he had affected Alpha, and what his first thoughts had been. He genuinely couldn’t remember.

He shrugged his shoulders to convey this.

“Well,” Sigma said, rolling his eyes at Gamma, “If you don’t remember, you can always ask Alpha during your inspection. He usually remembers our first moments.” Then he leaned in and whispered, “I think he has a scrapbook somewhere with memories of us that make him feel all gooey inside. He’s a big softie, really.”

Upsilon gave a silent giggle. Sigma, surprisingly, was able to overcome Upsilon’s nervousness. It was the first thing that made Upsilon feel relatively okay with the thought of being around Alpha. Plus, he made a mental note to ask about his first thoughts later, because he wanted to know.

It seemed like Sigma was about to start on another subject, but Alpha and Phi returned, so the three of them stood at attention to their elders. Phi didn’t kneel, but he approached Upsilon and bowed considerably to match his height, taking one of the new module’s hands in his.

“Though we have hardly met each other, it was a pleasure having you around while you were at my station. I wish you every ounce of good health for the future, and I owe you my deepest gratitude for protecting one of the last bilateral planes from extinction in my absence. You are welcome back to Chloris whenever you wish to visit, and I’m sure Echo would love to see you again.”

Though honored, Upsilon suddenly felt angry, granted not at his old mentor. As Phi finished his farewells and disappeared into the dark forests, Upsilon silently chastised himself. After all this time, he’d completely forgotten about Echo, and he felt horrible for it.

True, he’d only known her for a few cycles before Phi had shipped him off to  _ Neró _ , but in that time, they had become quite close. In the times when Phi’s confusing and mildly difficult teachings frustrated Upsilon, Echo was there to console him. After everything that had happened, and the new friends he’d made in  _ Neró _ , she had undeniably slipped from his mind.

In fact, if Phi hadn’t said her name, Upsilon probably wouldn’t have remembered her at all. Strange, considering machines had nearly permanent memory. Unless something in his memory banks had been damaged?

He suddenly recalled seeing that flower in the plains with Calais and Pallas, wondering if it had, in reality, been just a mirage. Maybe… something  _ was _ wrong with his system, beyond what physical damages he’d obtained. Should he risk telling Alpha? Fixing physical injuries proved easy, but software was more delicate. You couldn’t just reprogram someone’s personality, not even in the slightest. They’d look and talk the same, but be a completely different entity. That’s why Alpha ensured their shells were equipped with self-learning software and went to such great lengths to protect what made Modules unique to themselves.

If something proved to be wrong with Upsilon’s software, they’d no doubt have to reformat him. Alpha would refuse his inauguration in a single breath and probably strip him of his shell. And yet… Upsilon was unsure of whether or not he could lie for his own selfish desires. Becoming a Module meant saving lives. Becoming a Module while knowingly holding a defect would put those lives at risk. Upsilon didn’t want to be responsible for that.

He’d have to make his decision fast, because Alpha was giving the twins orders and they were leaving. Upsilon felt his engine stutter again as Alpha turned to him very calmly.

“Let’s determine your future, then.”


	10. Ch. 6 | Final Inspection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On a rollercoaster of emotions, Upsilon manages to get through his inspection. Neither it, or Alpha, were quite what he expected, but at least he can speak again.

Not for the first time, Upsilon thought how easy it would be for Alpha to just completely erase his existence. His premature thinking was obviously irrational and influenced by very old stories that may or may not have been true, glorified by imaginative mortals. Even still, the fears were there, and he had to constantly remind himself to keep a level head. Calm and collected, like Calais.

At least now the weary thoughts were accompanied by some reassuring dialogue from Sigma. According to the twins, Alpha wasn’t so scary, but that proved difficult for Upsilon to remember when he lied on a hard metal table with all of his fragile insides exposed to the one he so feared.

They were in a medium-sized room, underground, where everything consisted of cold metal or computerized machinery, much like themselves. The whole underground facility had felt abstract and claustrophobic to Upsilon, since he had spent his first twenty cycles in the warm, wide open fields of _Neró._ This specific room was fairly empty, or at least it had been when they’d arrived. Coming in the door, only the left wall held a clutter of computer screens and tabletop surfaces. The other three walls were plain, except the door they’d come in through.

Then Alpha had given a simple order aloud, and the room came alive in response, separating spaces in the empty walls and revealing tools and machinery inside them. The table Upsilon lounged on now had slipped from the floor with a mechanized arm supporting it underneath, capable of twisting and turning whatever way Alpha needed it. Even the ceiling opened to lower some machinery that would be used later to fix Upsilon’s heavier damages, each tool protruding from a spherical core and supported by a much smaller version of the same versatile, mechanical arm.

The last wall, Upsilon assumed, was access to storage, because Alpha had requested a specific letter and number before the wall opened to reveal a row of smaller containers. Inside these containers, and probably the countless others inside the walls, were most of the parts used to build and repair Modules.

At the moment, Upsilon felt Alpha tinkering with something inside his head. If it weren’t for the screen and camera above his face, he wouldn’t have been able to see the mess of wires, computer parts, and glowing cyan LEDs that indicated functionality. He noticed some of them were red as Alpha’s dexterous and gentle fingers worked magic on the delicate hardware, testing connectivity and realigning certain pieces.

Something click into place and a sharp _beep_ resounded from Upsilon’s mouth without warning. He shut it quickly, embarrassed, and Alpha pretended not to notice his embarrassment while taking a seat next to him.

“State your name.”

Nervously, Upsilon opened his mouth to form the words.

“My name is Upsilon.” It felt good to speak again. He felt instant, but brief, relief as Alpha continued his questions.

“Full cycles since production?”

“Twenty.”

“Your character ID?”

“YmYqYApak4.”

“And your favorite color?”

Upsilon hesitated, caught off guard by the simple question and trying to think if he had one.

“Blue,” he decided.

“Good color.” Alpha’s eyes remained focused on a tablet in his lap. Upsilon glanced at him, biting back his urge to ask a question, but Alpha’s silence didn’t do well to distract him, so Upsilon asked anyway.

“Why is that important?”

Alpha arched his brow as he raised his optics to the other.

“It’s not.” His face remained calm, tone light, and Upsilon wondered if that had been an attempt at humor. He found himself too weary to laugh, and after that momentary silence, Alpha continued unphased. “May I look at that shoulder now?”

Upsilon nodded.

Alpha had been very open about the whole inspection process, ensuring that nothing would be done without consent. That’s why the screen and camera had allowed Upsilon to watch Alpha at all times when tinkering with his body. Though comforting for Upsilon, he wasn’t entirely sure exactly what he looked at most of the time. He also wasn’t sure how true his security would be if something irreversible came to be known, but he tried not to let the panic set in.

Being hooked up to a bunch of machines that foretold all kinds of things about his body made Upsilon nervous. Though intended to alert Alpha if anything went wrong while he worked, Upsilon worried it would also reveal the very secret that would end this whole process; Upsilon’s seemingly defective memory. He couldn’t outright lie if Alpha asked about a defect, and Upsilon couldn’t imagine the rebuke for lying about something so important, even if it was fixable.

While Upsilon’s thoughts whirled dangerously through his mind, Alpha popped open a section of the other’s upper arm - just as Upsilon had done when assessing his damages. Alpha had a better view from his position, and held a pen-like camera that illuminated the inside with a tiny light. He noted the sensor not responding and, using the video feed on his tablet, tried to discern if anything else had been damaged.

“Your ball joint is cracked. You must have been hit hard, or by something heavy.”

“Centaurs are a lot of both.” Upsilon said quietly. For a brief moment, he saw a flicker of something on Alpha’s face, but it was gone by the time he looked over.

“Centaurs are a stubborn species, in all manners of the word.”

“You’re telling me.”

Alpha set aside his tablet and camera pen to return to the wall of storage.

“Lambda, J5, please.”

Bodiless and obedient, Lambda functioned as the foundation to both public and private networks throughout the world. As the core of the world’s network, Lambda connected every existing machine’s data, sentient or otherwise, back to one place for analysis: Alpha’s lab.

Upsilon vaguely knew of Lambda’s essential part to play in every Module’s life; from connecting them to the network and allowing communication with each other to monitoring and maintaining the very archive that stored pieces of history in the form of easy to read data. Lambda existed in nearly every situation, and worked especially close to Alpha here at his station in Nessa.

The wall shifted in response to Alpha’s commanding voice, rectangular storage containers returning to their designated area inside the wall, only to be replaced by two more as the invisible machinery whirred. They _ka-thunked_ into place so Alpha could reach in and find a part. He examined three of four different ones before finding ones he approved of and returned to the stool beside Upsilon.

As Alpha adjusted pieces inside Upsilon’s arm, he spoke quietly.

“It seems you really enjoyed your time in Chloris, once Phi introduced you to _Neró_.” Upsilon remained quiet for a moment, unsure what Alpha’s tone suggested. “Yet it seems you still don’t want to be posted there. Why is that?”

Oh. Alpha must have overheard his one-sided conversation with Sigma about a station.

“I’m not really sure.” Upsilon said instead.

“You made some strong friendships there. You feel as though it’s home, and you’ve made a connection with the centaurs as a whole. It’s remarkable how you’ve changed them.” He seemed to be speaking that last part to himself. “Your visits with the Lender of Light…  Phi had mentioned that you spoke to the Chloris Ancient. I almost didn’t believe it, but I can feel how much you care for her well-being, and happiness.”

Now, Alpha was laying out a lot of information Upsilon hadn’t really shared with anyone. How could he know all this? Surely, Alpha had proven to the world in the past that his abilities were magnificent, but none of the legends had spoken of one like this. Unless…

Upsilon supposed he shouldn’t be surprised, and remained weary to question it. So for the moment, he shared his thoughts on the Ancient, because he felt himself missing her.

“The Lender of Light is a kind spirit.” Upsilon offered, his right hand fidgeting beside him on the table. “I don’t think she’d admit it, but she seemed rather lonely...”

“I’d imagine so.” Alpha grimaced. “It was thought that no one else in existence could speak their language.” Quiet for a moment, Upsilon realized now why Phi had been so shocked to hear the news himself. It seemed so obvious when said out loud, but Upsilon had just assumed the Ancients’ tendency to isolate themselves had made them unapproachable. Afterall, how was it possible for Upsilon to speak an unknown language?

Another beep and click resounded throughout the room and Alpha closed Upsilon’s shoulder.

“Try to move it.”

Upsilon willed his left arm to rise and it did so without fault. Upon instruction, he closed and opened his fist a couple of times and smiled at Alpha in thanks. His elder nodded and stood, tossing damaged parts in a bin for incineration. He moved on to a computer screen against the wall and stood there in silence, reviewing some information.

Unable to contain his curiosity, Upsilon asked the question that burned inside him.

“How did you know?” Alpha gave him a partially inquisitive look over his shoulder, so Upsilon specified, “About my time in _Neró_. I never really told anyone in detail about my experience with the Ancient, so no one could have told you. Which means…” The room fell silent, with the exception of some beeps and other small noises from the equipment. Finally, Alpha encouraged him to continue.

“Which means?”

“It could mean a lot of things, but...” Upsilon admitted, mind becoming sluggish with possibilities. He barely got the question out. “Are you omniscient?”

This time, he caught the edge of a smile before Alpha turned his head away. After another moment of silence, Alpha made a quiet mark of surprise.

“Oh…” His tone seemed rather suspicious, which made Upsilon suddenly panic. Had the computer told him something? Upsilon wasn’t ready to reveal concerns over his possible defect. The sudden flush of fear made him feel lightheaded, the room getting darker. “Your plumbing took a harder hit than I’d realized; it’s lacking pressure.” What? Oh. Upsilon blinked a few times, lifting his head to try and focus on Alpha as the elder turned around and became a blurry mess.

“I’m surprised you’re still conscious,” he said.

Upsilon could have laughed at the irony, considering how often he ignored the warnings of his own system, but he was suddenly overwhelmed by a heavy slumber as the back of his head hit the table.

  
  


In all fairness, before a Module is inaugurated and equipped with the essential gear that will protect them throughout their duties, their shell and systems are quite fragile and make that dire fact _well_ known. Before a Module receives their gear, the smallest of things is considered a danger to their computer - even taking a dip in a shallow pond. Hearing _‘WARNING: THIS PARTICULAR ACT MAY BE DANGEROUS DUE TO THESE NINETY REASONS’_ makes it hard for anyone to relax, much less retain their sanity. It’s understandable that one would mute said systems and simply be more careful, especially in a relatively safe place like _Neró_.

However, Upsilon was no longer in _Neró_ , and it was time for him to start taking himself, and his systems, a little more seriously.

He awoke in a mild and brief panic, sitting upright in a chair and finding magnetic sensors stuck along his shell. There was an obscene amount of wires protruding from the little magnets, connecting him to a wheeled table and computer to his left. He had trouble moving, so he sensed he probably shouldn’t.

He was still in the same room, just hooked up to a different machine. He attempted to recall what they’d been doing last in the inspection and couldn’t, when Alpha appeared from behind him.

“You seem to be fully functioning again. We’re finishing up diagnostics now that you’ve undergone repairs.”

Upsilon glanced down. With the makeshift leather bandages gone, he could see that the tiny speckled holes that had burdened his shell were now non existent. Plus, both the small puncture wound on his side and the large crack in his chest had been repaired, however some unseemly scars remained. Shells weren’t really meant to have damages like that welded back together.

“They will be there forever.” Alpha said, emphasizing the scars with a nod of his head. “Obviously, I can build you a new shell, if you’d like, but from personal experience, I suggest you view it as a trophy, of sorts, in memory of how you survived and what you did for the centaurs. It may look daunting, but otherwise, your durability is relatively the same as before.”

Upsilon continued to ogle the scar on his chest. It was shaped like a ‘Y’, but one of the upper points was significantly shorter, making it resemble lightning, somewhat.

“Thank you for the advice.” Upsilon said quietly, taking Alpha’s opinion into genuine consideration.

“On another matter,” Alpha started, drawing Upsilon’s concerned gaze, “Calais may have been the one to temporarily fix the tubes to your engine, but it was your idea that allowed him to do it.” He raised a piece of leather sewed together in thick layers. “By coating the inside of this with slime, he was able to repel most of the ichor from leaking. Even if it didn’t restore pressure, it returned ichor to your engine temporarily, buying enough time for you to return to this side of the world. You could’ve passed out at any point from system failure. Let’s be glad it was here.”

Upsilon felt a sudden pang of missing home. He owed Calais a lot, it seemed.

“Thank you for telling me.” Upsilon said, and after a moment, he added hastily, “For fixing me, as well. It feels good to be in one piece.”

Alpha nodded deeply, as if out of sympathy, and returned once again to the stool that now sat in front of Upsilon. Despite Alpha being one of the shorter Modules, Upsilon was undoubtedly the smallest, and still had to raise his head to Alpha even when sitting. His elder watched him for a moment, then down at his tablet before he spoke.

“We’re almost finished. These diagnostics will help us learn quite a bit about you. You’ll get to see information about your body in detail, such as specs and stats.”

“What’s that?”

“Specs make sure the hardware in your shell is up to date and working properly. Stats are the abilities and skills you’ve gained and improved since awakening, that will determine your position among us.”

“Position?” Upsilon inquired, and Alpha seemed all too happy at his willingness to ask questions.

“As Modules, it is pivotal that we work together. Knowing what we each are capable of is a great help in deciding who takes on what roles and duties. Then, perhaps most importantly, your position determines your combat style.”

At the mention of combat, Upsilon ground his jaw together. He was not looking forward to that particular area of his duties. As if understanding, Alpha nodded his head and continued.

“I am a defensive module,” he began, setting down his small tablet and speaking with his hands, “ I don’t like to fight, I’d rather protect in the heat of battle than be aggressive, and my skill set reinforces that.”

Upsilon thought that rather surprising, but somehow felt a little relieved by the fact. It helped him see Alpha in a different light as he continued.

“The twin Modules you met when coming here, Gamma and Sigma, are both offensive modules. They’re highly efficient with a variety of weapons, and their stats increase their effectiveness when attacking.”

Defense versus Offense. Upsilon didn’t know how he felt about either category. He could foresee himself leaning more towards defense, helping others rather than harming them, but he was also very small compared to other modules and wasn’t entirely sure how well he could defend with his meager size and strength.

With that thought, Upsilon considered asking Alpha why he’d been made him so small in the first place, because the question occurred to him often. However, he didn’t want to sound rude or disrespectful, so he tried to word his question carefully.

“Is there a reason… my shell was designed so differently from other Modules?” He watched a flash of something in Alpha’s optics before they closed from sight.

“You’re referring to your smaller size.” He said blatantly, and Upsilon felt a little guilty for some reason. But then the elder Module’s tone became an amused one. “You designed it.”

Upsilon stared at him, until Alpha opened his eyes and stared back. He arched a brow as the silence droned on, until Upsilon finally managed a simple, ‘What?’.

“You specifically requested a small shell,” he raised a hand, a finger tapping the side of his temple, “When you were still in my head. You designed your shell, cluttering my thoughts with schematics and models of your ideas. A lot of them. You were ecstatic to have a body of your own, and though I was unable to follow through with many of your more… unreasonable requests, certain aspects of your designs, such as the small frame and ridge of horns on your forehead, were your ideas.”

More than once, Upsilon had noticed his own reflection in the waters of _Neró,_ and then almost made the connection when he’d first seen Alpha out in the training grounds. They both had a crest of horns sprouting from their foreheads, but Upsilon’s were significantly smaller in every way. He briefly wondered what purpose the horns presented. Alpha made it sound cosmetic, but surely he’d found a reason for them.

Not a single inch of a Module’s shell contained wasted space. Every part and piece were placed with the utmost care for efficiency and ease of use, and Upsilon realized that said something about Alpha; he cared a lot for his Modules. Upsilon couldn’t even imagine the time and dedication it took to make a shell, especially when most of them were unique based on personal preference of the bearer. But Alpha seemed to treat every shell with equal dedication and, dare he say, passion.

“You wanted a crown similar to my own,” Alpha said, continuing his explanation as he emphasized the three-horned crest resting against his own forehead, “And though I couldn’t give you the exact same thing, I could hardly say no to you.” The last words were said with a sense of fondness, and Upsilon realized Alpha had known him a lot longer than the other way around. Once leaving the elder’s head, it was common for a Module to lose their memories, which were left with Alpha, and the new module had the opportunity to make new memories in their own body; as their own being.

Upsilon had begun to see what Sigma meant about Alpha being a softie, even if he’d seen no real evidence of it yet. It made sense, when he simply looked at the whole picture.

Alpha built, repaired, and maintained the health of not just all Modules, but the entire world. Looking at him now, objectively, Alpha truly seemed like a loving and dedicated leader, even if he sometimes held a daunting and unapproachable outward appearance. When Upsilon stopped hiding inside his own head, and looked more closely at the oldest, most powerful, entity in the world, Upsilon could see right through those hard, dark eyes looking back at him.

He saw an old soul; proud, steadfast and, perhaps most curiously, a tenderness and loyalty that would warm the coldest of souls, if only they could breach Alpha’s impenetrable defenses. Upsilon couldn’t explain the things he saw there, couldn’t figure out why he felt such a sudden connection with Alpha as though he’d known him for much longer than he had, but in his core, Upsilon knew his feelings to be true. Maybe he had retained some of his early memories after all, and simply couldn’t remember them.

A lot of realizations were clicking into place for Upsilon all at once. A wave of foolishness washed over him at how scared he’d felt before meeting Alpha. He’d been fearful of someone who, for all intents and purposes, should have meant the world to him. Instead he’d trembled at the thought of an unknown force - instead of being open-minded, but cautious - and fear often led to mistakes. That’s what Calais would have told him, and that’s when Upsilon realized he no longer felt nervous or scared. At least, not of Alpha. His future as a Module still held plenty of frightening speculation, but Upsilon would try to view it from a different mind from now on. He had to stop being scared of everything. He had to change his ways.

Calm and collected, like Calais. It had to be more than just a mantra.

“Your diagnostics is complete.” Alpha announced, eyes now refocused on the smaller tablet in hand. “I can’t say I’m surprised at the results.”

Upsilon, jared from his sudden train of thoughts, watched Alpha flip the tablet around and hold it out in one hand for him to see. The screen held a chart full of acronyms and numbers that held little meaning to him, but on the bottom, where it stated Upsilon’s recommended position, it read neither defense nor offense.

“What is ‘support’?” Upsilon asked, and Alpha made a small grunting sound.

“You are severely limited in physical combat. You will be unable to fight or wield a weapon efficiently without exponential training and your most basic stats suggest you’ll need far more upgrades than the average Module to enhance them, such as durability and strength. Where most modules develop noticeable skills and unique abilities within their first few cycles, you seem to have none.”

Upsilon had a sinking feeling in the pit of his engine as Alpha’s harsh words pierced him. He stayed deathly quiet as Alpha continued, unsure if he’d be able to speak without his voice wavering.

“All in all, your stats don’t look very promising. They're quite possibly the lowest I’ve ever seen, actually.” Upsilon closed his eyes, wishing Alpha would just tell him he didn’t make the cut. It would have been nicer that way, after everything else he’d been through up to that point.

“That said, stats have been known to be wrong before.” A moment of hope. Upsilon opened his eyes once more, and Alpha’s voice took on a lighter tone as their eyes met. “I’ve watched you closely since your awakening. You excel in quick thinking, innovation, and a craving to learn. You’re a thinker, and an innovator, like myself, and stats don’t always reveal the potential those kind of traits offer. There is no doubt in my mind that you will excel at whatever skillset you decide to focus on, Upsilon.” The younger machine dropped his gaze as Alpha’s words sunk in. “You have what it takes to be a damn good Module. You just have to dig deep and accept yourself for who you are now.”

Alpha reached forward, beginning to pluck the little magnetic sensors off the younger Module’s shell, and his gentle voice finished with conviction, “Then you dig deeper, and strive for what they _need_ you to be. Nothing less.”

Upsilon digested the words as though they were a lifeline. He’d felt a little more confident with every kind and wise word Alpha said, and now had an inkling of understanding as to why everyone treated him with so much respect.

One way, or another, Alpha had earned his god-like status; earned the endless titles, epithets, and shrines given to him by the mortals, and it was because he was a wise and kind leader that did what had to be done. Upsilon knew this because Alpha had spoken from a deeper place, a position of sympathy and knowing all too well, somehow, what Upsilon was going through. That kind of conviction only came from experience, and imagining Alpha at some point in a weakened state such as Upsilon himself was in now, did wonders for the younger machine’s hopes and confidence.

“Alpha…” he started, quite lost for words but feeling he should say something. He was so caught up in his emotions of the moment, he didn’t even realize he’d used Alpha’s name instead of something more respectful, like _Anaxi mou_ or _Patéras_. Alpha didn’t seem to mind, and gave Upsilon the opportunity to share his thoughts, though none that would accurately portray his feelings came to mind. Alpha seemed to understand this anyway, and gave a tiny, affirming grunt.

“I knew from the moment you made yourself known to me that we would be alike. It’s not uncommon for Modules to share traits with me, but you… were something of an anomaly.”

A moment of silence, and then before Upsilon could stop himself, the question left him without abandon.

“What were my first thoughts?”

This time, Alpha didn’t even try to hide his smile.

“You said, ‘Wake up, Alpha. Our world needs us.’”

  
  
  


Of the sixteen active Modules, only ten walked the earth in physical form. The remaining six consisted of one sentient, but bodiless Lambda, and five passive mods that existed somewhere secret and secure. The passive mods were considered confidential, and no one but Alpha knew what they did or where they were kept, only that they were active.

Due to the interconnectivity of Modules, waking from a sleep, or simply requesting a report from Lambda, would briefly reveal a list of active Modules and their statuses as ONLINE, OFFLINE, or IDLE.

‘Online’ is when a Module is fully conscious and capable of performing duties and self-care.

‘Offline’ is meant for those who have been completely shut down, left without the ability to care for themselves, much less their duties. This is most often temporary, such as to repair heavy injuries, but it has been known in the past for some Modules to undergo a forced shutdown against their will, resulting in their name being permanently removed from the list.

Finally, ‘Idle’ simply means a Module, for whatever reason, is off-duty or charging.

Upsilon’s name now appeared in that list on the tablet’s screen, making him the seventeenth active Module. As Alpha showed him how to speak and interact with Lambda, who would now be forever omnipresent in his systems, Upsilon saw his own name on the list go from ‘Idle’ to ‘Online’ in big green letters. His engine stuttered, joy overwhelming him.

He was officially a Module.

Almost immediately, a ringing set off in his head and he flinched, yelping. A screen appeared before his eyes, that supposedly only he could see and control, and Alpha urged him to answer the call after showing him the flicking motion he’d need to make with his hand. The screen declared it was from Sigma.

“Welcome to the team, _Silere!_ ” He cheered, pumping a fist in the air. “How’d it go? Was Alpha nice? I hope he was nice. He can be grumpy, sometimes.”

Upsilon glanced at Alpha, who was standing nearby patiently on his Nucomm, unable to hear or see Sigma like Upsilon could. Alpha would, however, hear Upsilon’s responses, so he smiled at Sigma sheepishly.

“It went better than I expected.”

Sigma gave another cheer, “He speaks!”

Upsilon rolled his eyes and laughed. Sigma had some kind of talent for that.

“It’s nice to use my own voice again.” Said Upsilon, and Sigma put a hand on his chin thoughtfully. His voice suddenly became low and serious, eyes dark and narrowed at something off screen.

“I see, I see… _Silere_ is no more, and yet I can’t bear to forsake the name. This is quite the conundrum. How will I continue to make fun of you if the joke is no longer relevant?”

“Your words don’t match your tone.” Upsilon said, half-smiling. “Your relay may be faulty… or maybe it was a bad joke to begin with.”

“Wha?!” Appalled, Sigma raised his hands in exasperation. “You sound like Gamma… I liked you better as _Silere!_ ” Though he looked disgruntled and offended, Upsilon could see the good humor behind his eyes and cackled.

He decided he liked Sigma.

“So, _Sui Generis_ ,” Sigma started, causing Upsilon to immediately lose his feel-good attitude. He faked a smile to hide the weight he felt with that name, but the smiling became more genuine as Sigma continued in a more serious, but uplifting, tone. “I look forward to working with you when you come hang out, _and_ I wanna hear all about your inspection! Plus... You seem more fun than the others… especially Gamz.”

“Hey.” Gamma’s voice, offended and quiet at a distance, reached through Sigma’s screen and the boys grinned at each other.

“Whoops.” Sigma winked. “Don’t be a stranger, dude. Okay?”

“Okay.” Upsilon happily agreed, and Sigma gave him a tiny, two-fingered salute before the screen blipped out. There was no reason to say farewells. They’d see each other soon enough.

Alpha, who seemed to sense the conversation ending, had stepped forward. In his arms, he held a mechanical capsule-shaped crate, which he handed over for Upsilon. Immediately realizing what it was, Upsilon stared at the tiny screen on the front that read his name.

“Congratulations, Upsilon. Your skin, armor, and Nucomm are in here. I’ll give you some time to change into your gear, then you’ll be going to Eros.”

Upsilon held the container with a swell of emotion. It was such a relief to have the inspection over, even if the feeling would be brief. After all, he did still have some important decisions to make and the small matter of his memory problem nagged at him. He thanked Alpha before the elder Module left the room to give him some privacy.

“Meet me outside when you’re finished,” he’d said, then the circular door slid shut behind him with a hiss, and Upsilon was left holding his gear and feeling pretty good about himself.

Being inaugurated as a Module had proven to be no small feat for him, but his duties would eventually make his probationary period seem like a cake walk. Though part of Upsilon looked forward to it, as always, another side of him grew anxious at the thought of what was to come. But he refused to let those negative thoughts ruin his current mood.

He was a Module. Not only that, he’d become Support. Not only did that give him much more freedom to decide his future and combat style, but according to Alpha, it was the most helpful position among the Modules. That made sense, but Upsilon was excited to provide whatever aid he could to everyone around him. He was going to help others by curing infection. That was the skillset he wanted to master, and he would do so, no matter what.

He felt the heat of his engine rising and realized it’d been like that for a while. Lambda helpfully reminded him to filter air periodically, and Upsilon rolled his eyes. He wouldn’t have a choice to ignore Lambda like he did his systems. Maybe that was a good thing.

Machines had no need to breathe and no lungs to hold stagnating air, but sometimes the act of ‘breathing’ calmed a rowdy engine. That’s what mortals called it, anyway.

Upon a long inhale, the internal fans lining Upsilon’s throat and chest whirred faster at the sudden influx. He felt a release of pressure as air, warmed by his body’s increased temperature, exited freely from small vents along his body that opened in response. His internal temperature immediately began to normalize, as cooling systems initiated around his engine.

Feeling a little more level-headed, he set the capsule of his belongings on the very table he’d been repaired on earlier. It now sat lowered so Upsilon could reach it with ease. He went to open the capsule… and then quickly realized he didn’t know how.

He stared at the mechanical crate in confusion. He groped at it to no avail, as there were no latches or combinations, no buttons or knobs, or any feasible way to open it at all, it seemed. The only thing Upsilon could interact with was the tiny screen on the front that read his name, but the letters only shimmered as he touched them.

Could this be a test of some kind? Upsilon hoped not. It would be severely embarrassing if he needed help opening a box.

He played with the screen, dragging, pressing, pinching; trying to get it to respond in some other progressive way, but he only managed to clear his name to make a blank screen, and after a few moments of being left alone, his name would reappear.

Groaning after a while, he gave up and simply stared at it. It felt futile, and his feel-good attitude was promptly trampled on.

Then he had an idea. If it wouldn’t respond to physical touch, then maybe it would respond to voice activation, like so much other technology. The only problem was, he didn’t know what to say to it.

“Open.” He waited. The container seemed to mock him in the silence.

“Upsilon.” He said his name quietly, earning him only more silence. He tried again.

“Module?” Again, nothing, so he tried the words together and still it remained shut. He even tested it to make sure, and felt foolish.

“Lambda…” Even his voice sounded defeated, “How do I open this thing?”

A deep, computerized voice answered from the depths of his mind.

_Module capsules are secured using personalized passwords, assigned by their owners upon creation. Place two fingers to the screen, think your password, and the capsule will open._

… what?

“But I didn’t make the capsule.” Upsilon said simply, frowning as realization slowly dawned on him. “Alpha did…”

He spent a good moment mentally reviewing conversations he’d heard and been apart of since he’d arrived here, and eventually felt like he’d come to a conclusion after connecting a few dots.

Upsilon had assumed ‘upon creation’ referred to the making of a capsule, but he understood now that it meant the creation of the owner. The wording was meant to be misleading, so he’d spend forever trying to figure out what personal password Alpha would have given it.

Not only that, but Gamma had said a Module’s first thoughts were private. They probably shouldn’t be shared without confidence in the present company which made Upsilon wonder if Sigma had truly forgotten Gamma’s first thought or was secretly asking permission to reveal it. Not only that, but had Sigma been trying to help him by giving him a hint? And did Gamma have so much faith in Upsilon already that she told him her password so openly?

“Lambda,” Upsilon beckoned again quietly, “Do capsule’s require physical touch because they read character ID’s?”

 _That is correct._ The voice responded, and Upsilon nodded in his own confirmation. Even if someone else had the password, the capsule would require the owners ID to be physically present to open.

Upsilon felt like he had his answer, so he placed two fingers against the screen and watched it go blank. Audio waves appeared in response to his thoughts.

_Wake up, Alpha._

The capsule lid clicked open a hair, and Upsilon blinked. It was so simple when he just thought about it.

He began to pull out the rolled up clothes and set them aside in an orderly fashion, taking note of everything he had.

He slipped on his skin, donned his armor, and slid his Nucomm onto his left forearm, where it clicked firmly, perfectly, into place, designed as it was for his small, metal frame.

Before the Hollow attack; without something to compare his fairly easy and laid back life to, there had never been thoughts of his well-being in mortal danger. It wasn’t until he’d witnessed, firsthand, what a life threatening situation felt like, that he was able to label himself ‘insecure’, because that’s what he had been since the Hollow attack, nervous and scared of nearly everything. But now, he already felt different.

His jacket had short sleeves cropped at the shoulders and a body covered in plenty of mesh for ventilation. A high, flexible collar hugged his neck and hid his lower face before he smoothed it back more comfortably. A zipper currently rested a quarter of the way down his front, revealing a thin tank top with a blocky pattern underneath. He found two pockets on the front of his armor, which a hand instinctively migrated to rest in as he admired his simple slacks and boots. Every piece of his attire held a shade of grey to it, with the occasional accent of cyan or dark slate-blue, but overall, it was of a lighter scheme than most Module’s wore. He found he rather liked it.

Something about a heavy uniform clinging to his body made every ounce of his anxiety and fear wash away. He felt safer, and more capable, under the responsibility this clothing harbored. It almost felt like a dream as he closed his capsule and carried it by a handle to the door. He grabbed his leather bag from the floor on his way out, where it had sat for his entire inspection, and slipped it over his shoulder. He hoped the plants inside were doing okay with no fresh air, and reminded himself to find a proper home for them soon.

He exited the room, feeling like he’d spent his entire probation in there due to the length of the inspection. He found Alpha outside the room, casually leaning against a wall as he observed his Nucomm with mild interest. It was the most informal he’d seen Alpha yet, as his posture was usually straight and fairly tense.

The elder Module shifted his arm, so the Nucomm’s screen would flip and show Upsilon a paused timer.

“Twenty clicks,” he said, “On the dot.”

It seemed the capsule was a test afterall, Upsilon thought, and Alpha had been timing him.

“Is that good?” Upsilon asked in turn, and Alpha arched his brow in contemplation. He righted his Nucomm and ogled the number in silence for a moment. His next words were the last Upsilon had expected to hear.

“Second only to myself.”  



	11. Ch. 7 | Swamped with Regret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Upsilon is temporarily assigned to Eros with Gamma and Sigma to learn what it means to be an Executor of a biome, but his lessons are delayed when they discover a herd of Hippocrocs continue to disrupt local workers from completing prep for the Observance Festival.

The twenty-cycle probationary period is generally spent apprenticing to a Module and traveling the world. Considering the threats that lie in wait throughout the biomes, it’s a dangerous time, before receiving any kind of protective gear. A new Module will never feel more like a mortal than in their first twenty cycles of existence, as they learn what it means to be alive and part of this dangerous, ever-changing world.

That’s why new Modules are assigned to someone capable of ensuring their safety while they acclimate to the world, and generally not left to their own devices on a separate plane of existence.

For maybe the hundredth time since his inspection, Upsilon glanced down at the weight he felt against the right of his chest. There sat a computerized metal badge, gleaming the symbol of the Modules and his position as support in white. It pulsed, as if alive, and Upsilon again wondered if he deserved it. Afterall, his probation had been significantly less dangerous than the other Modules. Alpha had said as much, but advised asking the others if he wanted to know more.

Upsilon could still hear Alpha’s words from when he handed the badge over.

"A badge is worn with pride and honor." His maker had said, pulling a hand from a pocket to reveal his own cyan-colored defense badge. "For a Module, it is your very reason for existence. Our edict is a promise, to each other and to the world."

The words weighed heavy in the following silence. When he wanted, Alpha had a voice that demanded authority and inspired those who listened. It was a stark difference from the quiet confidence he usually exuded.

Upsilon had felt his engine stutter. Officially a Module, he would become a protector above all things and, eventually, a symbol of guidance for the mortals. He had a long way to go, and yet it all started with this badge. Upsilon ogled it in wonder.

"Let it be known," Alpha continued, slipping into a slightly deprecating tone. "That this is also just a trinket. It means little next to the accomplishments we achieve."

Upsilon deflated a little. He hadn't even realized he'd stuck his chest out in pride, but now he hunched over, shoulders noticeably sagging. So much for a symbol of 'pride and honor'.

“Most entities can tell us apart due to our appearance, and don’t need a badge to know who we are.” Alpha explained. “Not to mention we can do pretty much anything this badge can do from our connection to the network. However,” He held up a finger, catching Upsilon’s disappointed gaze before pointing at the badge in his hand. “The badge is not useless, it’s an amplifier.”

Upsilon straightened now, feeling a little less disappointed. If that was true, then the badge may help Upsilon’s powers develop more quickly. At this point, he should have been using them frequently, and yet there was no sign he even had any, yet.

He raised the badge in his hand, staring at it as Alpha continued.

“It allows energy to flow more easily, and increases the range you’re able use Lambda if you ever have a job in the Null. You also use it to confirm certain tasks on computers or with other machines. It contains a unique ID to you; a password, if you will. Without it, you can not perform many of your duties as a Module. So, don’t lose it.”

Without the badge, he wouldn’t be a full Module. Upsilon’s grip on the hard metal tightened, and he looked from it to Alpha.

“I understand its importance.”

"Good. Words are powerful here.” Alpha said, “You’ll be sworn to the oath you promise here, and any others you make verbally. Now, state your name and read our edict out loud."

Upsilon held the badge in his hand firmly, noting the black etchings around the outer metal. The Module’s edict was written in the old tongue, and Upsilon found himself glad that he’d taken to studying it during his probation. He nodded once, as if to assure himself he knew it, before beginning.

"My name is Upsilon,  _ Sui Generis _ , Savior of Light.” He spoke confidently, and then spoke the Module’s edict with conviction, “ _ 'There is nothing I wouldn't do. Divide and rule, god from the machine.' _ "

Alpha nodded and visibly relaxed a little. Formalities over, there was no need to put on a show.

“Congratulations.” His maker finished. The young machine felt his engine stuttering again, overwhelmed with happiness that his journey could truly begin. Alpha could see this, but also knew of the doubt and anxiety that would lie in the back of his mind. "Our job  _ is  _ important, Upsilon. Some will come to see you as the protector you want to be. Others will not. But it doesn't matter how many or how few believe in you, as long as they believe. Remember, your strength will only reach heights they believe it can. Understand?"

"Yes,  _ Anaxi Mou _ ." It meant he would most likely have to show off a little on this side of the world before his powers would develop, something he was not very good at.

The entire initiation hadn’t exactly been what Upsilon expected. He wasn’t entirely sure  _ what _ he expected, but it had been different. It had definitely inspired him, Alpha’s words giving him courage for the future, but even now, Upsilon felt the effects of it fading as he walked, alone, through the snowy forests of Nessa toward the data gate. He groaned to himself.

His badge and uniform may have helped him feel more confident on the surface, but he quickly found his timidness to be ever rampant now without someone else inspiring his ambitions. He noticed that pattern about himself before, and now wondered if it was him or something about the other, stronger Modules. Maybe their ability to inspire and build confidence in others came from their power, or simply being more experienced. 

Alpha had been with him up until the edge of town. Upsilon had noticed a lot of stares again from the furred entities who lived there, but as no surprise, they had been focused on Alpha instead of him. A sense of wonder and respect lied in their eyes this time, compared to the more weary appraisal when Phi had been with him. They had attempted to hide their curious ogling, but Upsilon’s watchful eye missed little, causing entities to turn their own away as they met.

It was at those times, Upsilon became reminded that there were pros and cons to spending your probation period on a different plane of existence. The mortals barely looked his way, and their curious glances were generally for whichever Module he found himself with at the time, anyway.

That was fine, thought Upsilon. He'd do whatever it took to make the mortals remember his name, and all the epithets they gave him for his accomplishments. Not that he wanted them, but he’d felt wired up in Alpha’s presence at the time, itching to do something important. By the time they’d reached city limits and decided to part ways, however, Upsilon began to feel the determination Alpha had given him fade away.

Instead, his mind now toiled over what exactly it was Alpha had to go do, because his maker had mentioned wanting to see to Upsilon’s acclimation personally, however a more pressing matter required his attention. Thus, he’d sent a message ahead to Gamma and Sigma, telling them Upsilon would be posted in Eros temporarily and, after his elder showed him how to operate the datagate for a private transfer, they’d parted ways for the time being. 

Upsilon’s orders at that point proved simple: use the datagate to travel to Eros, and then find Sigma and Gamma’s station to witness how they lived and maintained the biome. If given the opportunity, he should travel with them when they visit other biomes, so he can choose where to be stationed in the relative future. Alpha would come find him by the end of the cycle, which would mark the beginning of the Observance Festival.

Learning firsthand next to some of the best Modules in the world sounded exciting to him, not to mention it might inspire his abilities to awaken. It also made him nervous, however. What if he made a mistake and they still revoked his badge? What if his system memory remain faulty, and malfunctioned when least expected?

Upsilon settled his riled engine and calmed his anxiety. Once Alpha had left him to his own devices, Upsilon easily maneuvered around the datagates’s interface, as though he’d done it a million times. He entered in the location string for Eros, but the datagate didn’t change this time. Alpha had mentioned the door’s image only changing when multiple entities were traveling about.

Hesitantly stepping through the portal into another world, Upsilon silently hoped he was actually traveling to Eros and hadn’t made a mistake. As the vibrating sensation of the portal traveled along his shell and faded in a hum, he found himself in a place of stark difference from the snowy one he departed from.

The dark and dense jungle biome came alive with abundant plant life, radiating colorful bioluminescent light. He found himself surrounded by unbelievably tall trees and smaller underbrush with exotic flowers that shined vibrant hues of every color imaginable. The vegetation grew so thickly here, it braced itself against the datagate, but a path gave a wide berth; for traveling merchants, no doubt. The bright plant life provided an intense contrast against the dark sky, but that had been quickly becoming a normal expectation of this place. ‘Night’, as the mortals called it, was a persistent ideal in their world. On this plane, there was no light to brighten their lives. Just the cold, faceless abyss of the Null all around them.

Upsilon imagined that, if the Bilateral Planes didn’t depend on their physical counterparts to survive, everyone would live there instead, where light was in abundance and peace seemed adamant. In fact, Upsilon wondered why that wasn’t the case already. Surely, at least some mortals would have wanted to live in the Bilateral Planes. It couldn’t be only centaurs, right?

He wondered if he could visit any of the other Bilateral Planes that were still around. Upsilon wasn’t sure how many there could be left. Afterall, Calais had told him how they’d been dying off, one by one. Upsilon grimaced, staring absently into the dense trees around him.

“ _ Silere!” _ A voice suddenly startled Upsilon out of his thoughts, making him drop his capsule and frantically look for the voice. Sigma dropped nimbly from the branches above, landing at the edge of the clearing. Upsilon glanced upwards to see just how amazingly tall the tree canopies were, a little slack jawed.

So much for feeling more confident, Upsilon thought as he grimaced down at his capsule. This big place made him feel even smaller than he was, he thought sadly, and attempted to quell his embarrassment. Before Sigma could comment on how jumpy he was being, Upsilon focused the coming conversation somewhere else.

“My friends call me Silo.” He said hopefully, and Sigma gave him an awed expression as he gracefully bounded over to him.

“Wait, does that mean I’m your friend?” He asked, and Upsilon smiled hesitantly, shoulders rising.

“I mean… ‘Friend’ may be kind of a strong word.” Upsilon teased, before his facade broke under Sigma’s expression of betrayal and hurt. The younger machine laughed.

“I’ll have you know,  _ Silo” _ Sigma stressed the new name, and then flitted his hand in the air as though waving something distasteful away. “My friendship is a one way ticket to happy, buddy, and doesn’t go out to just anyone. It’s a private club. MVP’s only. No LVP’s allowed, SMH.” After a moment of silence, as if to drive his silly point home, Sigma muttered a final, “Just FYI.” and turned his chin up.

Upsilon, a concerned half-smile on his face as he crossed his arms slowly, managed a, “Are you having a seizure?”

“You know, I might be.” Sigma put a thumb and finger to his chin as if seriously considering it.

Upsilon stared at him another moment, before swinging around to grab his capsule. With a lackadaisical shrug, he turned for the data gate, all in one fell swoop, waving a hand in the air to emphasize his words as he spoke.

“Okay, well I’m not an MVP, SAT, or LA… uh… G… yeah, bye.” He teased, and Sigma’s strained holler made him pause.

“WAIT!” Sigma’s arms sprung out in a half-hearted attempt to reach for him. Then he promptly fell to his knees and hung his head. “Don’t go… Gamz might melt me if I don’t bring you back, and she’s scary when she’s mad. Plus, I lied. Everyone’s my friend, I’m a huge softy.”

“ _ Melt  _ you?” Upsilon asked quizzically, looking over his shoulder. Sigma whined.

“It’s not a pleasant feeling when someone else does it.”

With his back to the taller Module, Upsilon rolled his eyes. So dramatic, he thought. He wasn’t sure what ‘melting’ meant in this context, exactly, but he felt like the joke had gone on long enough. He turned around with a gentle smile and gave a tiny shrug.

“I guess I don’t have a choice, then.”

“Metal.” Like a blur, Sigma sprung from the ground swiftly, pumping a fist into the air. Then he clapped his hands together and grinned, all facets of sadness and joking suddenly completely gone from his demeanor. If Upsilon didn’t watch himself, Sigma might give him whiplash.

“Let’s go!” The taller machine said, grabbing Upsilon’s capsule from him. He emphasized the bag over Upsilon’s shoulder with a nod. “Is that made of real leather?”

“Yeah. It was a parting gift from  _ Neró _ .”

“It’s beautiful. But that means we’ll have to take the slightly slower route.”

“Huh?” Upsilon gave Sigma a strange look as the other glanced upward, through the canopy of trees overhead and into the darkness beyond. He seemed to be mulling something over.

“Well, organic material tends to be fragile when rapidly shifting matter. I wouldn’t be able to ensure it would be the same after we got it to the station.”

“Wait, shifting matter? I don’t understand.”

Sigma dropped his eyes to Upsilon and grinned.

“Damn. I wanted to show you, too. It’ll have to wait.” Then he turned his back to Upsilon and crouched, speaking over his shoulder. “Hop on.”

“...w~hy?” Upsilon had no doubt the taller module could carry him with ease. Afterall, Upsilon barely came above his hip.

“Because I don’t want to spend half a cycle walking home, you nut. Come on, trust me.”

Upsilon arched a brow and took only a moment to decide he did trust Sigma. He adjusted his bag more securely and then leapt onto the other's back. Tightly wrapping his arms around the older machine’s neck, Upsilon felt awkward, but Sigma held him firmly with his free hand. Upsilon’s grip felt so weak compared to Sigma’s.

“So this is what it’s like to be so tall.” Upsilon couldn’t help but smile as the other stood .

“Gotta duck down a lot.” Sigma muttered with a half grin.

“Ohhh, and that’s why you live in Eros. Tall trees.”

“You catch on fast.”

But not as fast as Sigma, apparently.

It always happened in those brief interactions, those tiny, easily overlooked movements, and Upsilon had thought he’d noticed something strange in Sigma’s unusually quick responses. He reasonably had a suspicion that one of Sigma’s abilities would be enhanced speed, but that hadn’t prepared him for how fast Sigma actually moved.

The initial lurch forward threatened to detach Upsilon from the other’s back, and if Sigma hadn’t been holding onto him, it probably would have. The world around him became a distorted blur of colors and Upsilon had to close his eyes in fear his optics might be damaged from the dizzying flashes. He could feel the motion of Sigma running; the rhythmic pounding of his footsteps; the brief moments of nothingness as Upsilon imagined brief leaps through the air, only to land gently and continue on without missing a beat.

Upsilon couldn’t imagine how a dense jungle like Eros made for good running ground, but somehow, Sigma managed to move through the thickly gathered trees like fluid. It made him appreciate what little of Sigma’s skill he knew of.

Upsilon felt the running cease for longer periods and opened his eyes. He found them soaring over the trees in wide arcs, dipping into the canopies for a brief respite and then immediately launching from the landing branch back into the air again. Sigma seemed extremely well-trained in the art of grace, as Upsilon barely felt a jostle as they landed on a branch that bent under the impact and leapt off again. These moments seemed slowed down, giving Upsilon the chance to admire the silhouettes of the surrounding jungle and mountains.

There was a species of tree that glowed in its entirety, located periodically throughout the biome. With a great big trunk, thicker than the other trees, it took up a large amount of space and created a wide area of luminosity under its massive, umbrella-like canopy. Upsilon could have sworn he’d seen evidence of villages surrounding some of them, and wondered what kind of entities lived in this biome.

“You okay back there?” Sigma’s upbeat voice caught the wind, interrupting Upsilon and his wandering mind. The younger Module grinned to himself.

“Sure, just... hoping you don’t drop me.” He thought he heard a bark of laughter, and could hear the grin in Sigma’s voice.

“Pretty sure you’d survive a fall from this height.”

“...Sigma.” Upsilon warned.

“At least sixty-percent sure.”

Upsilon rolled his optics, smiling.

A few more leaps and they were back on the ground running. Upsilon was about to close his eyes again, but they stopped only moments later, and upon Sigma releasing him, Upsilon immediately collapsed to the ground. Dizzy and disoriented, he found himself unable to stand again or even open his eyes, lest his head spin more.

As it turned out, machines had an equilibrium that could become unbalanced after all.

“Sorry. We just covered two-thirds of a biome almost twice the size of Chloris in sixty clicks. You’re going to feel a little woozy as you readjust.”

Strange, it hadn’t felt like they’d been traveling that long, but Upsilon recalled the long and tedious journey across Chloris to get to the entrance of  _ Neró _ . Upsilon had been convinced at the time that Chloris was a never ending sand pit. Now, understanding dawned on Upsilon as he realized Phi would have taken much less time had he been on his own. It had taken them ten times as long to travel the desert on foot than it did for Sigma to basically fly through the jungle. He became aware again of how powerful the Modules were, and how far he had to go yet.

“Is Eros that big?” Upsilon asked, getting back to the subject at hand.

“It sure is.” Sigma grinned, almost proudly, ”It’s one of the biggest biomes there are, besides Chloris and Nemesis. All of the southern and eastern biomes are pretty big, because the mortals are fond of them.”

Upsilon supposed that made sense. Alpha had created the biomes, surely he could make them bigger as the mortals desired. The thought fascinated him, though, that Alpha could simply mold the earth at will, assuming the legends were true.

Something didn’t sit right with him, however. Why would the mortals be fond of Chloris? And even if that were true, where were they all when Upsilon had traveled through there?

Upsilon suddenly groaned, his dizziness reminding him of its presence.

“Are you sure we’ve stopped moving?” He asked Sigma, who grinned a little sadly at the younger Module’s weariness.

“Give it a moment more.”

“You seem to be fine…” Upsilon didn’t see it, but Sigma shrugged in response, rolling his eyes.

“I’ve always been fast. When I apprenticed Psi, part of my training consisted of tempering the side effects of speed so I could invest in further upgrades. Bit of an unpleasant experience, really.”

“Psi?” Upsilon asked quietly, and Sigma caught himself. “I don’t remember seeing their name on the list.” Sigma stammered at first, finding the voice to speak.

“Uh, um, yeah. Psi isn’t with us anymore. She was erased.”

“Oh.” Upsilon didn’t have much else to say on the matter. The idea of a Module being erased was unfathomable to him, and quite honestly, he didn’t know enough to be comfortable talking about it. The silence only lasted a minute, Sigma being the pro that he was at filling it.

“Anyway…” Sigma replaced his sad smile with a more genuine one as he explained, “My skill set requires me to be nimble, so a lot of my early training and upgrades were focused on stealth and speed. Gamma, too. We’re hunters… of sorts, so being invisible and crazy fast are necessary for us to do our jobs. Gamma wouldn’t have been able to stop that arrow, otherwise.”

Upsilon grimaced, remembering the arrow that almost cut through his engine at the training grounds before properly meeting Gamma and Sigma. Nothing had come of it, of course, but the reality that his life could have been erased then and there couldn’t have been more apparent to him now. It had been Sigma who unintentionally pulled the metaphorical trigger, but Gamma had saved him before he even knew he was in danger.

“How did she know? It happened so fast.”

“She predicted my movements, because we know each other so well. When she heard you arrive, she knew I’d mistake you, and moved to counter me.”

“That’s pretty metal.” Upsilon said, adopting Sigma’s expression of fascination.

Another attempt, and Upsilon finally opened his eyes without the world spinning. He blinked a few times, before accepting Sigma’s hand to help him stand. He stumbled once, Sigma catching a firm hand under his arm. 

“You’re taking it pretty well, actually.” Sigma admired him. “You might want to invest in some speed upgrades, since you already show a resilience to it. Depends on the abilities you develop.”

“ _ Resilience? _ ” Upsilon asked incredulously, grimacing. “I’ll keep that in mind.” If this was showing resistance, he would hate to see what someone else completely unprepared for the experience went through. He felt horrible inside, but at least the feeling had begun to fade.

“Are we here?” Upsilon wondered allowed, glancing around the thick underbrush and trees surrounding them. It didn't seem like a kind of entrance to anything, but neither had the one connecting Chloris to the bilateral plane  _ Neró _ .

“Not quite,” answered Sigma, hand on his chin as he looked in the direction behind him. “We’re taking a small detour.”

Now that Upsilon’s head finally ceased its spinning, he could hear voices nearby. They were too far away to understand, but they didn’t sound very happy as they hollered over one another.

Sigma began through the trees and underbrush, leading the way for Upsilon who hurried to follow. As they grew closer to the voices, Upsilon realized they were speaking the old tongue. He only caught a few angry words before they crossed the jungle’s threshold into an area that was much more open, littered only with the breed of colossal trees whose leafy canopies reached far into the night above them. There were also entities - quite more than Upsilon had heard when approaching - scattered among the base of trunks and even the branches of the trees further up.

The majority of them were avians, he realized; bipedal and feathered, save for their scaly calves, standing and sitting around looking agitated. The rest of the area inhabited four-legged creatures, looking gluttonous and armored with rough, leathery skin. Upsilon wasn’t sure how they managed to carry themselves on those short, stubby legs, but their broad jaws and thick hide made them look a little scary.

Upsilon also noticed large wooden braces, big enough to build a house around, holding long, slender pieces of carved wood. He saw markings on the trees and the severed trunks of others, suggesting the avians were cutting them down. How, he wasn’t sure. He saw no real tools besides pulley equipment that lifted the already cut logs.

Sigma stepped forward, setting Upsilon’s capsule down at the edge of the brush they exited from. Upsilon took that as a sign to stand aside with it for a moment and noticed many of the avians look in their direction.

“ _ Halcyon!”  _ Many of them called, waving and cheering momentarily at his arrival. He returned it distractedly.

“ _ What’s happened here? _ ” Sigma asked in a perfect imitation of the old tongue’s dialect, and loudly, so someone in charge would step forward. A handful made their way to Sigma looking sad and agitated. A short and stubby one with rust-hued feathers stepped forward in earnest, his eyes a deep walnut brown like the designs along his feathers. He also wore strange, golden jewelry that covered the tips of his wings and connected up his wing to a thin chest piece. Upsilon noticed the rest of the avians wore similar jewelry, of different metals, and wondered why the cosmetic choice. Surely they couldn’t fly like that?

The rusty colored avian responded to Sigma, speaking for the group in an exasperated tone as they threw his wings in the direction of the thickly set beasts surrounding their work area.

“ _ They’re back, Halcyon. The third time this cycle. When will it end?” _

_ “Third?”  _ Sigma asked, confused as he glanced around the clearing at the slow, lumbering beasts.

“ _ We managed to get them to go last time, without calling you. They’re back now, bumbling around like newborn mountains. _ ”

As if to drive the point home, a few yards away, one of them bumped into a rack of logs and snapped a rope, causing the surrounding avians to curse and groan as they backpedaled away from the giant, cascading logs in a hurry. The ruckus was loud, causing the other wild beasts to scamper a few feet away and rest easy again as the chaos died down. There was nothing the avians could do to stop the huge, careless beasts besides hurting them, and even disgruntled workers weren’t that cruel.

“ _ We won’t meet our quota.” _ The earth-colored avian remarked. His wing lifted a little in dismay, heavily falling back to his side. “ _ Nemesis needs our team’s stock for housing repairs, not to mention the festival. If we delay any longer, we may only have enough wood for the festival, and the Backsiders may lose their homes, and that’s if we even finish.” _

_ “Okay, okay.”  _ Sigma made a placating gesture with his palms, then made a comment most likely directed at himself, “ _ I thought they were just migrating and lost the first time. _ ”

“ _ So did we _ .” The avian said, earning nods from those behind him. “ _ But now we’re not so sure. We’ve heard cries lately, usually during shift changes when all is quiet. _ ”

“ _ What kind of cries?” _ Sigma asked, raising a thumb and finger to his chin in thought. He rested his elbow on the other arm that slinked across his chest. “ _ How do they sound? _ ”

“ _ Shrieks, like those of the dying.” _ The avian sounded like the noises had chilled him, and raised his feathered wing again, pointing in a direction through the thick trees and underbrush. “ _ But it sounds very quiet from this distance. It comes from their lake, the popular watering hole. We haven’t gone there ourselves since we started hearing the gut wrenching wails. _ ”

One of the blundering mammals wandered up next to them as they spoke. Sigma raised a steady hand and ran it comfortingly along the animals backside as it passed. He patted it twice and grimaced.

“ _ Then this time I’ll go to the source, find out what’s driving them out of their lake. I should have done that originally.” _

_ “None of us foresaw them being a recurring problem, Halcyon.” _ The avian attempted to console Sigma, who shook his head before the other even finished. “ _ It’s common for them to migrate in herds to new lakes.” _

_ “Yeah, but they don’t usually stick around like this, away from the water. Your team’s been posted here for a while, right?” _

_ “The entire Horae. We’re scheduled to move on by the start of Observance, but at this rate, we won’t be done in time. The festival might be delayed because of me and my team. It’s my fault for not coming to you sooner.” _

_ “It’s no one’s fault.”  _ Sigma said sternly, cutting a hand through the air to drive his point home. “ _ But Observance can’t be delayed. Let me solve this, and I’ll help you reach quota. No worries.” _

Upsilon had taken a seat on his capsule, watching the conversation unfold. He considered the Observance Festival, and realized he knew very little besides the fact that it was important for mortals. Whether they believed in the good intentions of the Modules or not, this festival had nothing to do with that.

Unlike machines, mortals had a lifespan. Their lives were marked by Reps, or Repetitions, and the Observance Festival marked the finality of another Rep for all mortals. If a mortal fell below zero Reps, they usually died within the next cycle. This reason was why the festival was so important to them, acting as a celebration of their lives and the lives of those they love. It was a chance for the entire world to gather, to the biome of Nemesis, and celebrate life together, often for the very last time.

There were other festivals, of course, one to mark the end of each Horae. But Observance, the fourth and final festival of a Repetition, was possibly the greatest. Or so he’d been led to believe. Upsilon would be lying if he said he wasn’t terribly excited to see it first-hand. Phi had told him some of the Modules put on displays of power for the mortals, to entertain them. It simultaneously reminded them that the ‘gods’ they believed in were still powerful and there to protect them. Not to mention Upsilon was beyond excited to see the Module’s display their powers himself. He wondered who exactly would be putting on shows, and toyed with the idea that one of them might be Alpha. He doubted it, but that would be interesting to see.

One of the rotund beasts paused near him to gnaw on branches of shrubbery, Upsilon realized it was a younger one, as it was much smaller than the others. It took him a moment of confidence building to follow Sigma’s example and raise a tentative hand to pet the beast’s rough and bumpy backside. The young mammal turned its glassy eyes in his direction and threw its head as if to give thanks. It’s tiny ears flicked around like little satellites.

_ You seem nice _ . It seemed to say.

Upsilon dared to give it a tiny smile as it went back to devouring the bush, but something bothered him; something in the animals eyes. Upsilon had felt something there.

He studied now the heavy set animals that roamed the area. They seemed to favor the blue flowers, and Upsilon wondered if it had to do with smell or taste. At first glance, they seemed like scary animals with those massive jaws and large sharp teeth he caught glimpses of, but now, as he eyed their behavior, they seemed pretty harmless.

“Silo,” Sigma’s voice whisked Upsilon’s mind away, causing him to suddenly stand at attention and correct the strap of his bag. Sigma approached him, hands on his hips. “Sorry for this, but I’m gonna have to solve this problem of theirs. These beasts are called Hippocrocs, and they’ve-”

“I heard.” Upsilon held up a hand and smiled gently, appreciating Sigma’s intention and glancing over at the Hippocroc he’d been petting a moment ago. It wandered away now, tail swishing happily. “I’m almost fluent in the old tongue.” He said, turning his attention back to Sigma. “I understood most of it.”

“Wow! Already?” Sigma seemed genuinely amazed, and Upsilon began to feel self-conscious, folding in on himself as he shrugged. “It took me forever to learn.” Sigma continued, “You sound like Gamz, thhough, language has never been my strength. But that’s great! So, you know what’s going on.”

“Yeah… Hey,” Upsilon felt embarrassed for even thinking it, but he pushed forward before he could stop himself. “I don’t know why, but I think these animals are scared of something.”

“You know, I was thinking the same thing.” That reassured Upsilon a little. “Their behavior seems to suggest that, anyway.”

“Do you have an idea why, then?”

“Well, that’s what we’re about to try and find out.” Sigma swung his arm around in a ‘follow me’ gesture, and Upsilon did so without question. He left his capsule and bag as Sigma advised him to, mentioning these avians respected Modules enough not to touch their things.

As they walked through the thick jungle, Sigma seemed to flawlessly slip between the trees and thick underbrush, but Upsilon snagged on nearly everything. He didn’t understand how Sigma could move the way he did.

He was in the process of tugging his jacket from yet another thorny branch when he heard a sound from the tree tops. He looked up just in time to see a beautiful bird with two long tails flutter from one branch to another, releasing a melodic song as it’s long neck craned to look behind it. Another of the same species landed next to it, and they pecked at each other playfully, sleek black feathers fluttering and contrasting heavily against their iridescent blues and purples.

It was then that Upsilon noticed they weren’t the only birds around. Other birds, of every color and size fluttered between the canopies, playing with one another and guarding their individual nests. Upsilon found himself smiling at their attempts to communicate with each other through beautiful sounds.

Then another call, higher pitched and more blunt than the other’s melodic songs cut through the air, and Upsilon turned his head to see a ball of crimson feathers beside him, almost as big as Upsilon himself. It was fat and puffed up threateningly, releasing a startling honk that made Upsilon yelp and take a quick step back, arm raised defensively. He eyed the big bird nervously as it took a step toward him, long neck bobbing and vibrant tail feathers rising like angry hackles. It’s beady black eyes stared at him, as it honked again and flailed its stubby wings.

_ Get lost, shrimp. _

Upsilon took the hint and backed away.

“Okay, I get it, geez.” He muttered, performing the same hands down motion he’d seen Sigma perform. “I’m just passing through, screwball.”

As if understanding his insult, the bird honked resentfully and started scampering after him with a snapping beak. Upsilon yelped again, turning to book it in the opposite direction

He ran a few yards away, until he was sure the red bird had given up the chase, then slowed to a walk. After a few moments, he paused, looking around and hoping to see Sigma. There was no sign of him through the thick foliage of the jungle and Upsilon became worried momentarily, before he realized he could simply message him.

He summoned a screen and was just about to call his friend when a voice startled him.

“Lost?” Upsilon leapt a foot in the air, screen dissipating in his flinching fear. He realized quickly it was just Sigma, leaning against a trunk with his arms crossed. He had the signs of a barely restrained smile on his face.

“Wh-, when, I just...”

“You walked right by me.” He said, still attempting to hide his smile as he shrugged. “I haven’t moved since you got here.” He seemed concerned, suddenly, his lips pursed. “That Crimson Dawha didn’t like you very much.”

“I noticed.” Upsilon said, a little indignantly. “What did I do?”

“Got near its nest. Naturally, mother Dawha are protective of their young.”

“Yeah well… Dawha is a silly name.” Upsilon said, brushing himself off. Of course, there was nothing to brush off, his jacket was spotless, but he needed an excuse to hide his embarrassment. Sigma laughed, pushing off the tree.

“They’re named because they’re cute and make you say, “dawww’.” He started moving away as he continued, “Then you scream, ‘ahhh’, because you realize they’re scary when they puff up.” He turned around and raised his hands, mimicking a startled expression annoyingly similar to exactly what Upsilon had done moments ago. He dropped his hands at Upsilon’s cross look.

“Why do I have a feeling,” the younger Module started, optics rising to the tree canopies as he folded his arms, “That you’re the one who named it that?”

“Because apparently your instincts work better than your eyes.” Sigma’s toothy grin became wider at Upsilon’s deadpan. “Careful.” Sigma muttered, “I might start thinking you don’t like me.”

“That makes two of us.” Upsilon quipped, giving himself away with a tiny smile.

Sigma chuckled and continued through the underbrush. Upsilon following closely behind, noticing Sigma had started being more considerate of his slow pace. The other helped him avoid the thorny branches as they continued, and Upsilon noticed almost immediately that the wildlife had become much more thinned out here, much like the trees. It made him wonder something, and he decided now was as good a time as any to ask.

“How did you do that?” Sigma glanced behind at him curiously so he’d specify, “You said you’d been there the whole time, and I missed you right in front of me. I don't usually miss things.”

He said the last part a little sadly. His natural ability to be observant was one of the only things he had going for him at this point, considering his otherwise complete lack of power.

Sigma nodded in response, looking ahead of him once more as he regained his sense of direction. He waited until discerning the easiest path for Upsilon to take before answering.

“I mentioned Gamma and I are hunters, right? One of our skills is blending in with our surroundings, the art of seeing without being seen. We could be within inches of an animal or virus, and they’d never know.”

“That’s… pretty amazing.” The ‘art of seeing without being seen’ sounded like something Upsilon felt interested in. “Is it hard?”

“At first. Once you understand certain principles, it becomes much easier.”

“Will you teach me?” He couldn’t help himself. As Sigma raised a low branch for them to pass under, he stared at Upsilon moving past him and smiled.

“Of course. I mean, I’ll try. You’d be a good candidate for the skill, considering your size.”

He made a good point, and Upsilon knew that, but his size still somewhat bothered him. He couldn’t imagine why he’d asked to be so small.

Sigma added an amendment to his previous statement by saying, “Of course, my abilities tend to aid me in my camouflage. Depending on what skills you develop naturally, you may be able to find a better way that suits you. But I don’t mind teaching you the basics. We’ll do it while you’re here with us in Eros.”

Truth be told, Upsilon felt excited again. His natural tendency to think the worst of situations had begun to make him think he wouldn’t fit in well here, before he remembered his mission was to learn, not to fit in. He needed to remind himself of that whenever Sigma wasn’t around to make him feel better. Having a good time came second to his mission.

But now he had something to look forward to. It didn’t seem so bad at the moment.

It wasn’t much further, and the two of them arrived at their destination. It looked more like a swamp than a lake, as the large body of water had a species of tree that grew in various places throughout it, roots entangling with one another and rising from below the surface like the very wires that made machines like Upsilon and Sigma function. There were piles of wood, he noticed, relatively small and made from nearby branches and foliage. They may have been homes for some animal, scattered among the trees and seemingly floating on the water’s surface, but no doubt reaching all the way to the floor of the lake.

“Strange.” Sigma took confident steps forward, nearing the water’s muddied edges. There were clear signs that big animals had been through here. Upsilon didn’t have to be a hunter to see the giant imprints of what looked like the Hippocroc’s rounded footprints, but many of them were skewed in an indecipherable way. Sigma was kneeling next to them, studying their patterns and no doubt looking for further signs of distress.

“They definitely left in a hurry,” he said, “The spacing and depth of the prints I  _ can  _ see are different from ones I’ve seen in the past.” Upsilon only vaguely knew what the other machine referred to. He understood that something had happened, but wasn’t experienced enough to see what Sigma saw.

“Not to mention there didn’t used to be dams in this lake.” Sigma continued, lifting his head to the water as he observed it from his position on the ground, hoping to see something different from this perspective. There seemed to be nothing, besides the wooden dams themselves, which Upsilon hadn’t realized were dams to begin with. He’d thought they were just bundles of wood and leaves.

“How do you know they’re dams?” He asked, and Sigma raised an arm from his knee, pointing at the closest one hanging off the edge of the bank.

“You can see teeth or claw marks on the wood if you look close enough.” Upsilon surely couldn’t see that from here, and simply nodded as he realized Sigma probably had some kind of enhancement for his optics. “Not to mention the residue.”

“Residue?” It was then that Upsilon saw the pile of animal feces at the base of the dam. Machines couldn’t smell, but he imagined it didn’t smell good. “So what animal makes dams?”

Sigma stood from his crouched position and made his way over to the pile of wood. He placed a hand on one of the top branches, then on another one as he studied the markings, running a thumb over the grooves.

“None that would be big enough to scare Hippocrocs. Look at the way these branches were cut.” He stepped back, motioning for Upsilon to come closer. As he did, he noticed how crudely they had been chewed or torn off the trees. He looked around, realizing Sigma did the same thing, and they both spotted the surrounding trees that had been the victim of the dismemberment.

“These dams are also very crude, like they were rushed.” Sigma ran a hand through his hair, the other on his hip as he stared at the ground in thought. “I wish Gamz was here. She’s a much better study than I am with animals.”

“We can still call her though, right?”

Sigma made a face that didn’t look pleased.

“We can.” His shoulders slumped a little and he grimaced. “I guess we have to. I want to make sure we solve this as soon as possible.”

Upsilon watched as Sigma raised a finger to his temple, initiating a call. He made the motion for a screen Upsilon couldn’t see, but after a moment, Sigma made it visible to both of them. Upsilon walked closer, kneeling with Sigma next to the dam as Gamma’s face suddenly appeared on screen.

“Gamz!” Sigma grinned easily at her, and Gamma eyed the two of them. Ignoring Sigma, she looked at Upsilon and gave the smallest hint of a smile as she waved.

Upsilon returned the wave shyly, returning a bashful smile of his own.

“Are you still busy?” Sigma asked, and Gamma’s face became taciturn again as she responded.

“I’m still in Delphi, speaking with the Oracle.”

“Oh, still? What’s taking so long?” Sigma worried that something had gone wrong.

“Well, if you recall, it’s not my responsibility to meet with her,” Gamma’s tone sounded accusing, the tiniest hint of teasing in it. “But someone begged for me to go in his place so he could meet Upsilon at the Datagate.”

Sigma flinched, and glanced at Upsilon who, with a smug, but friendly look on his face, laughed. Sigma forced a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, turning a friendly glare on Gamma.

“Thanks, by the way.”

“No problem. What did you need?”

“Your opinion on something. Hippocrocs are delaying a team of Wingjacks assigned to Observance, so we decided to come find out why. We found evidence of another animal making dams in their lake.”

“Dams? In Eros?”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. There’s so many, the Hippocrocs have no room to coexist with whatever’s making them. You don’t think something migrated from Proteus do you?”

“Doubtful. Chi would’ve made a note of it somewhere. Why not just migrate the herd to a new lake?”

“Because this is the third time they’ve done it, so I want to make sure these dams are the reason they keep bothering the workers, or if it’s something else. If we’re dealing with an infestation, I want to nip it in the bud while we can.”

“That’s fair. Alright, show me what you’ve found.”

“Switching to optic-view.” Sigma declared, tapping a couple of buttons on the digital screen before them. A corner camera appeared, showing them, and Gamma apparently, exactly what Sigma saw in real-time. He slid Gamma’s screen aside and leaned closer to the dam, so Gamma could clearly see the tooth and claw marks he’d noticed earlier.

“Wait, let me see the severed areas of the branches.” Sigma rose, rounding the dam and kneeling once more. The wood seemed like it had been half chewed and half twisted from whatever poor tree it had been taken from. “So messy. But it almost looks like the work of a sentient entity with poor lumbering skills.”

“You think someone is sabotaging the Wingjacks?” Sigma asked, and Upsilon saw Gamma shake her head on the screen.

“Not necessarily. It may just be an intelligent animal…Have the Wingjacks mentioned any unusual noises in the area?”

“Yes.” Sigma said suspiciously, officially concerned. “You sound like you know what this is, Gamz.” After a moment of contemplation, she decided to reveal her thoughts.

“Sigma, remember during our probation in Chloris, we came across an animal imitating the call of a young and wounded Braklion? We wanted to help the animal, so we went looking for it.” Sigma suddenly looked disgruntled, now knowing where she was going with this. “I believe you said afterwards that you were ‘swamped with regret’. Yes, I’m sure that was your pun.”

A look of regret definitely dawned on Sigma’s face at the memory and he shook his head, canceling optic-view and returning to the screen where Gamma could see him.

“Mimictoads are extinct, Gamz.”

“Maybe they migrated before their extinction in Chloris and only hatched recently. That can happen with eggs in new environments.”

A deep, distant gurgling could suddenly be heard near them. Upsilon and Sigma raised their heads in sync to see bubbles rising to the surface in the middle of the lake.

“Or,” Sigma put in as the water began to swell there, “It hatched a while ago and has been hiding ever… since...” Something dark and slimy broke through the surface of the water and Upsilon became wide eyed at the size of the glossy, spotted creature. From their crouched position, it only made the animal seem that much bigger. Even as Sigma finished speaking, it continued to rise to its full height, using the trees to support its four legs and long, webbed claws.

“Because it looks like it’s been here for a while.” Sigma finished.

“Do you need backup?” A hint of amusement touched her voice. Sigma didn’t bother looking at her as he pressed his lips together and shook his head.

“Nah.” His tone was high pitched, but he attempted to look indifferent. “I’ll call you later.”

Saying nothing else, the call and screen disappeared. A deep, constant rumble rolled from deep within the animal, as each of it’s six glassy, orange eyes had strange-shaped pupils that watched them. It was a giant, blubber mountain with curvy, threatening horns. The creature opened its massive mouth and let out a long, obnoxious croak, causing Upsilon to shrink away. He raised an arm as he fell back at the deafening sound, propping himself up on an elbow.

The animal’s mouth was big enough to swallow both Sigma and Upsilon easily, with room for a few fully grown centaurs. It looked like it could open wider had it wanted to. Not to mention the sharp, apparently retractable needle-like teeth that extend from it’s gums. They twitched in hunger, seemingly with a life of their own.

“S-Sigma?” Upsilon managed to look away from the animal briefly, finding Sigma’s calm and collected face. He seemed more contemplative than anything, and a persistent clicking came from his chest, the equivalent of a Module sighing. The taller Module’s tone confirmed the annoyance he felt.

“Yeah, I see it. Do me a favor and don’t get eaten, okay?”


End file.
